The Scarlet Butler
by KiraNightraven
Summary: Dealing with assassins, political corruption, and a war was the easy part about being President of the United States, trusting her family to a demon butler was not. A shadow looms over the White House and President Johnson no longer knows who to trust. As the war continues to be brought to her door step the President must quickly decide which greater evil she will sell her soul to.


_**The Scarlet Butler**_

 **Chapter 1-the assassin** **  
**

Steady is the breath, though needed it is not. The shot could be made at day or night, hot or cold weather; weather energized or exhausted the shot would be made. It is night now, high above the clouds on a chilly Shanghai skyscraper. It is winter here, but given the climate it is not typically 'winter' as it would be in other, more northern cities. Across the street, thirty-seven floors below the current post lies the target:

Name: Jason Blake  
Age: 58  
Occupation: CEO of Global Trade

Client: Unknown  
Task: Assassination of Jason Blake  
Pay: $1.5 million (American Currency)

There have not been many assassinations as of late-the underground has more become restless in surveillance as companies and governments aim to control a person rather than the business of eliminating them; too much commotion. Jobs never slowed however; only changed and became boring. The cross hairs lined to his chest-the man is entirely unaware that his life lies on the squeeze of their trigger. The scope changed position observing the four-suited gentlemen that stood in the room. Three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, and twelve o'clock-all guard a sector of about forty-five degrees per eye and another twenty-three in perennial vision; between each guard lies in the very center where their line-of-sight is thought to intersect is actually one of four openings that would never be seen by a guard. But there is no need for an obvious assassination-nine o'clock guard has a small arm, perhaps a nine-millimeter on his left ankle; left-handed likely. Its easy to tell on how he stands, the pressure of the hand-gun rubs against his ankle and therefore an ever-so slight limp or lightness of step gives away its location. The assassin fires, hitting the barrel of that nine-millimeter. Its own rounds fire, bringing down the first guard and the window he falls from-the next shot is at the CEO; between the second and third rib lodged in his heart. It would be impossible to tell the caliber their weapon uses and more so to discover that it was not the miss-firing hand-gun that unfortunately killed their boss. Their Bluetooth vibrates and with a flick of the finger the voice rings in ear.

"What?"

"We have a new assignment for you-class five."

Pulling away from the scope, the assassin leans on their bottom and pears at the starry sky.

"When and where?"

"Tomorrow. Washington D.C."

As the weapon is disassembled the conversation continues. Depending on where the assignment is and when it begins making the preferable time frame would not be possible. Through the building and down the elevator the assassin concealed their favored rifle within a suitcase-protruding the appearance of an employee departing after a day's work.

"Negative; I am in Shanghai I cannot obtain transportation until three days from now."

"Yes I told the colonel that..." A sleek black Ford had parked parallel to the building's entrance, "He said, this could not wait." A tall slender caucasian man stood beside an opened door. His phone brought down from his ear, beside a scar on his right cheek, slips smoothly into his overcoat pocket. Not hesitant, the assassin enters the car after placing the suitcase within the trunk. The door shut behind them then the car sped off into the living night. The drive, it was assumed, was to an airport and between then the details of the assignment would be given. The slender gentlemen who greeted outside the car handed the assassin a folder.

"Another high-profile target?"

"Not quite; this one you will be protecting and observing; nothing more."

Flipping through the papers its noticed how unusual for paper-copy assignments to be given in this age, which means it must be off-the-books. A photo is shown; "The President? Why would the most powerful woman in the world have need of me? I assassinate politicians not babysit them."

"What I know is there has been information that someone has infiltrated the White House and plans to assassinate the President of the United States-how or when we don't know; that is your task."

They roll their eyes-how dull and bothersome. Playing guard dog to a spoiled government leader is hardly any fun and neither is watching them like one. Nonetheless what happens in between might be entertaining-anyone who can outwit the CIA is certainly an opponent worth toying with. Money comes second to the list of importance. Carefully they stair at the photos; speeches, balls, delegating she certainly likes to keep herself busy. A photo slipped to the floor.

"Ah yes, it's not just the President you're protect, but also her family."

Two children-a son and a daughter and a husband; perfect.

"And if one of her family dies?"

The man, with his silver and white hair, leans back in his seat and shuts his eyes, "The President comes first-if the family cannot be saved then forget them they will be a liability."

The assassin grins looking out the window, "As you wish."

 **Chapter 2-the Butler** **  
**

She kissed her son goodbye, but her daughter, sixteen of age, had reached one of those 'rebellious stages' and was already in the car.

"Bye mom!"

Her husband is out-of-state currently, giving an address in her place at an environmental convention is California. The work day began the moment she awoke, but everyday the time is taken to say goodbye to her children before they leave for school. Most nights she would not have the liberty to greet them, but only quietly peek into their rooms as they slept hoping for them to have had a great day. 'How was school?' 'Any problems with grades?' 'Do you want to do sports?' Many of these questions she yearned to ask, to be able to face them and says these out loud, but it is not so simple as President of a nation. In her heart she hoped her children would understand one day, but at the same time it seems that she expects far too much out of her own children who have been thrown into a different lifestyle. Now she returns to her office-the Oval Office to conduct a day's work. Today she resides in the White House, yet tomorrow off in 'Air Force One' to Texas. So many of these pointless events, she would rather be in Greece discussing evacuation of Athens after the earthquake that destroyed many homes and injured thousands. Politics are ridicules. A knock is heard at the door and with a soft, "Come in." it opens to the secretary-Sara enters and an oddly-dressed fellow trails behind her then steps to her side awaiting to be introduced. The person is peculiar at first glance-long snow-white hair kept in a low pony-tail; eyes deep blue in color and giving no sense of unusualness. A tail-coat she believes he wears, a British-born outfit that is mainly for high noblemen of the early nineteenth century or to servants from that period forward.

"Good morning Madame President; this is Nightraven, he will be your butler from now on."

Clint: Mirandia Jackson  
Age: 42  
Occupation: President of the United States of America  
Height: 5'7"  
Weight:143  
Eye color: brown  
Hair: long brown  
Personality: irrelevant

In his head he had already cataloged the woman before she even held the chance to judge him by first glance. Even before meeting her he had already known the type of person and her work ethics by the atmosphere and appearance of those he passed within the West Wing. This is a simple task, to deduce and reach a conclusion before hand makes the trouble of figuring out a human much easier and quicker. Madam President looks above the border of her glasses and renders a quizzical expression.

"I don't remember receiving any notices or applications about this."

Sara squeezed the notebook in her hand nervously-spineless idiot, "I guess the cabinet thought you should have some extra help at home to have less pressure on you at work."

President Jackson removes her glasses and leans back in her chairing giving a loud sigh-an unnecessary noise. She recalled back to her seat straight up, then rose from the chair to greet her new butler. Nightraven extended his hand and grasped her's softly.

"Its an honor to meet you ."

The President smiles, having received a bright presence from this mysterious butler she see no future problems with him. True he seems odd in his appearance, especially looking early twenties and yet having pure-white hair that does not appear artificial. A birth-defect maybe. Nonetheless his help may relieve the stress of at least picking an outfit or for the matter, her children may have a new friend.

"Thank you Sara, why don't you show him around the house? Just avoid the East Wing if possible, I think there're are still tours going around."

Nightraven raised his hand and places it over his heart and bows slightly. He says nothing and follows the slender woman out the door. (A butler-I wonder who brought 'that' idea up.) Sara walked around the West Wing first, introducing the new butler to every person who worked within. There were many small offices, but not as many people to conclude this is a 'company' setting; small business at best, yet the scale of what they actually do is beyond anything else. This secretary however, only has the task of organizing the President's schedule and nothing more. Of course she is the only one of this office who initially knows the 'exact' schedule of the President, but he can tell she is too frail to be plotting anything greater. No physical marks indicate abuse, no ring-she is not married not engaged; based on her scent she has a cat; she is not the turncoat beyond any reason of doubt.

"Hey Jim you busy?"

A large man looks up from his desk and another gentlemen, who sits in front, looks to Sara. They introduced as the head of Secret Service (the thinner and much older gentlemen), as the campaign manager (larger man) and as the new butler, who may loss his way from time to time. To the officer, this butler seemed rather broad yet had a softly carved face. A new face is always suspicious, but this one is alarming, he seems-'too' perfect.

"You should know I take my coffee black and with creamer on the side."

Nightraven chuckles some as they shook hands, "As you wish."

Day One

The silver trey lay in front of him; in perfect balance the tea kettle, the coffee pot, three cups, and cream and sugar on the side. He walked the halls from the kitchen to the Oval Office. Yesterday these halls had been memorized as well as the route servants are to take to avoid the 'working class eyes'. They say all are equal and yet even within the White House there are distinct classes from the simple servant to a government employee. Nightraven already believed this would be a dull start, but to drop from his former stature to such a humiliating state is hardly befitting even death. (How bothersome.) The trey is laid down silently on a small table beside the President's desk. She has been on the phone and likely not heard him enter, seeing as she faced the outside window. Four sugars; three creamers; the picture of a flag made from the creamer. The cup is laid to the right of her desk-as she is left handed and would write with her left and drink with her right. He lays small Taffies on a plate behind her mini desk-flags and collects the remaining dish and departs continuing to the rest of his route before returning to restock. He quickly became annoyed (though clearly did not show it) that every person in the wing believed that he is a butler to all of them. Requests for pastries, for lunches, for more beverages made this a living hell. (I am a demon and here I served these bureaucratic idiots!?) Tomorrow he would bring a cart, one order stacked and balances on another to double and triple the initial amount it would carry. At last he returned to the kitchen only to see it is a busy hive of insects. Chefs, servers, all the staff of the house run around the kitchen fulfilling their duties as he did his. Nightraven pulls from his tailcoat a pocket watch and observes its time. Tomorrow he would include a copy of the 'Times' to all higher-level staff and smaller articles to appointed members depending on their level. Unless he is called for there is approximately two hours before his next rounds to the wing, (Annoying.) The noise of clattering plates, burning fires and sizzling food is enough to make him nauseas therefore the butler removes himself from company and recalls to a nearby bathroom. (Oh my...) He stairs at the sign then shrugs at his decision-as long as no one saw him there would be no issue seeing as they have already made their assumptions. 

******Chapter 3-the Demon**

He does not approve of this trip to Texas. Its hot and dry and hardly anything worth seeing in that infinite desert who has a few pockets of life here and there in his opinion. 'Air Force One' would fly from the airport of Dulles in two forty-five minutes however the group is already on board and seated. The flight-attendants may care for the small folk and insignificant press and he would remain beside the President.

"Good morning ma'am, today's front page headline is on the current drop of point two percent in the areas of finance."

She took the paper from his gloved hands and began reading as her butler poured a cup of coffee from across the room. Today is a picture of a plane that flies upward. The cup is passed to the President then the trey is displayed beside her. Nightraven jesters toward it, "I have picked an assortment of small foods based on your likes and a local favorite of the city we are departing for." She holds the coffee to her lips, the warmth of it soaks them and its smell fills her nostrils with delight. The cup is brought down the moment the picture is noticed, "Did you do this?" He nods, "This is very good, where did you learn this?!" Nightraven smiles softly as he puts a finger to his mouth.

"I would not be a White House Butler if I could not do this."

A trade secret; many months of practice from one particular country he was fond of taught him all he knows to be the perfect butler. Nonetheless she is amazed, nearly that she would not dare drink from this cup and ruin such work.

"Do not worry ma'am, I will do these designs everyday for you and in any way you wish."

She collects herself and drinks from the cup. Her children would love to have something like this everyday, maybe it would brighten their day even if it is a little-"I can also do children cartoons if that is what you wish."

This startled her-he knew exactly what she was thinking, not only is that astonishing, but frightening. How much has he studied about her family? Yes, it is impressive how detailed he has gone to ensure her comfort, but to progress into their personal relations is suspicious. The President shook her head some; she is over-thinking these things, maybe he is just good at reading people and understands their feelings very well. He is dismissed shortly after, and left to wonder the plane in an annoyed state. (How long must I subjugate myself to this servitude?) The trey is say down, then the butler picks the knife up and twirls it in his hand-he really wants to kill something. (Third vertebra from the top; between the second and third rib on the left side; center of trachea; eight and eleven pounds of pressure; side of neck...)

" ?"

The knife is softly placed on the trey-the butler turns around retaining a soft expression, "Hm?" The flight-attendant requests his assistance seeing as one of their flight attendants has called in sick. (It is not such a challenge that to have a single person absent that you need to ask for help from another!) He assisted nonetheless serving the members of the press and other dignitaries who weaseled their way into this flight. None of them are even worth looking into. An attendant bumps into a young woman-the cups she held tip over, Nightraven made a single step closer, used his own trey and caught the cups that fell and the woman who tripped on her heels. The clumsy idiot apologies, yet the woman who is caught is instantly captivated by the tall and beautiful man who caught her. (He looks like a woman...) The butler gently raises her to her feet, "Are you alright miss?"

"Y-yes!" She stuttered grabbing onto his stiff arm to counter-balance herself. That reaction time was amazing; catching the falling drinks in one hand and a full-grown woman in another is a feat indeed! Though the butler gave an annoyed expression, not toward her, but at the negligence of the attendant.

"That was impressive, how-"

The man smiled some, "I'm just one hell of a butler."  
For a second she is dazed and then all thoughts of her original reason for joining this flight seemed pointless, in-comparison to him. He must be the President's personal butler; no one else would have one here, but it is odd that a 'house butler' would follow around the President, then again they live in strange times as it is. Now she is eager to know more about him, to develop yet another story and now one on how the White House operates from the eyes of the servant. The flight experiences turbulence and the journalist again falls into him. Reassured she is added in the return to her seat; must be a storm they have flown into.

"Thank you." She hands him a card, "If you ever have need of the 'Times', or me, please call."

Nightraven bows with his hand over his heart, "As you wish."

It took much of a long hour to arrive in Huston, Texas and yes there was a pleasant thunderstorm and traffic would delay their trip to the hotel by two hours. Awaiting outside the plane door, he opens an umbrella and holds it over the entrance to keep Madam President dry. Many came to welcome her and capture her image within picture. A sign across the airport projects a holographic message welcoming the President. Moving swiftly, Nightraven gives the umbrella to the President, rushes down the stairs then opens a second so his presence would not sully the picture, or quiet frankly so his picture would not be taken. Surprisingly President Jackson has her butler reside in the same vehicle; so begins another boring trip.

"Kira right?"

He nods shifting his eyes from the window to the President.

"So where did you work before here?"

He chuckles silently to himself, "Mainly out of country. Most of my manners and talents I learned in the Far East regions of the world." He jesters his hand, "My teacher was the best and I just became better."

"You've traveled a lot then?"

He nods again suddenly becoming annoyed at this questioning. He does not lie when answering these questions, she only assumes she knows what he means and he simply does not correct her-an easy way to avoid the 'whole truth' that is more bothersome to keep quiet than not. Nightraven dreads the thought of two entire hours of these pestering questions. In the beginning he hoped that by displaying it as a secret she would never come to bother him about it later-quite the opposite effect.

"I also happen to speak five different language though only three are fluent."

If he could bend the subjects enough Jackson would likely have him attend her more often and it would not become noticeable of his appearance so often. Her secretary blushes as she pretends to look at the schedule; not a very bright woman he guessed outside her job. He had been spared an hour of questioning-the President decided to have a detour to a local dinner and wait the rain out. Not that anyone would recognize her with a hat and a drafty jacket on. The driver, sounding as he had done so before, gave the remaining Secret Service cars the slip and as the three entered the dinner Jackson called ahead and informed them she would be back later. Such a careless woman-no secretly (aside from the 'butler') no protection, she seemed to enjoy being the number one target on anyone's hit list. In fact her name had popped up numerous times in his Bingo Book, but the CIA always managed to scratch it out before he could get to it. Someone always wants a leader dead and it is no surprise many in this own country want the same; political gain. As the others removed their layers of warmth and dryness Nightraven did not.

"You're not hot?"

Kira removed his overcoat and nothing else-he would not dare remove his gloves.

"Hope you don't mind, but I heard this dinner had good food and since the rain won't let up its better than being stuck in a car."

Kira, he folded his hands in his lap and hoped they would not notice. (Damn.) Water had gotten under his eye and if he did not clean it it would hinder him later. The projection of the menu appeared in the center of the table-Kira ordered water and a burger and excused himself quickly from the table. The two women giggled as he left; he must be uncomfortable with two women and he alone.

"It was Shaw."

The madam sips her coffee though not as good as Kira's. What business does Secretary of Defense Shaw have with affairs within the White House? Surely he is not concern with her 'mental health' because that man is always at another angle. The 'only' reason she accepted him as Defense Secretary is because after Jim Tobi's death Congress would not accept any other nominations-he isn't even from the same party for Christ's sake! Therefore if 'he' hired a 'butler' then that butler isn't 'just' a butler. That bastard always tries to stick his nose in her business and now he has truly pissed her off. Evidently President Mirandia Jackson believes 'he' caused Jim's death somehow, though there are no means to prove it. Likely he is after her seat and by some means he would use this man to achieve it.

"I tried looking into Kira's background, but there doesn't seem to be anything; as if his past had been erased-"

"Or Kira Nightraven didn't exist until recently."

Sara hands her the 'IPad'. It displays a picture of Kira with the bear-minimum of information necessary for an interview. The secretary's phone rings and she excuses herself.

"If Shaw is up to something he is doing a poor job of concealing it-"

"Of course he is, he thinks your an idiot, at best."

Kira hangs over the back of their booth peaking at his own information. His entire personality changed instantly-no kindness or rudeness. She had not heard him, not even felt any presence and this made her skin crawl. Kira wears an annoyed look now as he returns to his seat. There is no loyalty to that man, no reason to protect him, he is simply the one who gave him the means to achieve his goal and in exchange the assassin completes the tasks given to him. Anything else or any matters between Shaw and others is not of his to concern himself over. The President gripped the IPad tightly, now having a cold fear harden in her chest. This man has been a false since the beginning! Two days is quite impressive, though as a politician its no wonder the President held such caution around new suspicious people. To Kira, this may not be as bothersome as he first suspected. For a moment she thought he would kill her, then again he could have done it before or whenever he pleases for that matter. Though he does nothing and still sips his drink as though all is normal!

"Who are you?"

"No one; It is not necessary that I exist therefore I do not." He crosses his arms, "I have no past, I have no future; all that matters is I reach my objective and that is the end of it."

The President's voice cracked, "W-what is your objective?" For a moment he shut his eyes and for that moment when he opened them again all the malice and evil he portrayed disappeared, revealing a very sufferable look. However the pervious attitude returned,"For now it is to keep you alive Miss President and to ensure you are well enough to govern the country."

"Bullshit; Shaw would rather see be hung like an animal."

Kira shrugged, "I don't care, my task is to keep you alive because evidently you seem to have a security problem-your personal problem with him is none of my concern. Your life comes first above all else."

Sara began to return to the table.

"What in God's name are you?"

What a feisty and troublesome woman. Asking all these questions when in the end it is to clear her own conscious of fear of the unknown. He supposes these are necessary then-if he did answer her mind would not be restricted by the human fear she naturally has of him. Concentrating on more important things is more ideal then having her constantly watching her back. Nonetheless if Shaw's intent are as she says it may not be a boring task after all. Going against the CIA's finest against a monster like him; that 'would' be fun.

"I am a demon." He smirks pulling of the glove of his left hand. There on his palm is a black cross-like image that burns a fiery red. Her expression had been priceless; that she believed him in the first go or that she is so appalled at such a statement she is one of those 'see it, to believe it' people. He puts the glove back on.

"I do not save, I do not bless, and I do not protect. I just erase everything completely. Remember that very well if you witness my talents; I am not human therefore my philosophies about 'life' differ very much."

Sara sat down and that malice hid away instantly. A multi-faced demon. That 'is' what he is, so easily he can change his personality and fool all those around him-manipulating them as he sees fit. Yet he showed his true colors without a single worry; he trusted her? Perhaps he knew she would not try to charge Shaw. Demons cannot exist and no matter how evil this man is there is no way he is a supernatural fantasy. No, she did not believe this for a instant; not in her mind at least. Nonetheless in her heart she fears for her life because it is clear how dangerous this man is, but there can be no degree to know unless she witnesses his actions. Again a chill crawls up her spine-that would mean very soon some is going to try to kill her again.

Everyday he served her coffee or anything of the nature it became noticeable of her hesitation to consume it and yet would despite her doubts. There had been no action, no plots or suspicious persons even after he profiled every person within the White House. Its annoying. To have no one to kill and instead be constantly pestered by Jackson over questions about himself.

"Is everything just a theater to you? Is the world set up for your entertainment, is that it?"

Kira smiles as he sets down her lunch, "Good afternoon to you too."

Everyday its that same attitude, that same bullshit mask he wears in front of everyone and fools them at the same time. She knows his true nature and yet he has the arrogance to treat her as though it is natural. Two months she has dealt with this man and two months she has wanted to have him out on a stake and burned! He laughed at that threat like it was a corny joke! When she had this fit, he asked why she had been so upset over a thing-a wise statement Kira said was that people like him have existed throughout all time and many have been right beside her its just she did not see it until now. Jackson hissed at the only words she has believed out of him turned out to be an insult. No matter how many times she threatened him, no matter how many times she threw something at him he returned, he never complained, and spoke that it was he who broke something (The President happened to have terrible aim). She did not know which was better to know the type of person this asshole is or to have been fooled by him still. Kira's attention diverts to his Bluetooth; without further discussion he leaves the Oval Office. Looking at his pocket watch he notices the time-the driver who is to pick up the two brats is to be an hour late as he sits in traffic. If that is true then 'Madam' President would be upset and that could turn into a bothersome and one-sided argument. What is he to do now? Kira sighs as he tucks away the relic in his pocket. 2037 and still there is air traffic, how ridiculous.

"Out for a lunch break Kira?"

Derrick, the old gardener, greets the butler as he trims away pieces of a bush. A sixty-three year-old man who has been a gardener for more than five Presidents and is still kicking.

"No, the driver who had gone to pick up the President's children seems to be caught in traffic."

Derrick laughs, coughing as he quickly looses breath. In his youth traffic was on the ground and in the streets and now a-days the problem has been shifted to the skies with these new hover-cars. He watches Kira board his bike; "Hey now you're not seriously going to pick up the kids with that are you!?"

"Why not?"

"They won't fit, and any parent would have a heart attack!"

Kira looks at his bike-space would be a problem. No matter, he has an attachment in his temporary living quarters a few blocks away from the White House. Still Derrick is anxious about the 'President's children' being taken home on a motorcycle-nonetheless one of the older models. Kira jesters at him as he places the helmet on. Not that he could do anything-Kira seems trustful and everyone likes him; he is capable of picking up a teenager and a munchkin. He scoured his house for the extra helmets and after a time he located them and attached the side-car and was one his way. The bitter wind nipped at the bare sections of his neck. Its October now, but it felt much later in the year; winter would be very cold this year. The two attend a private school-one mainly for senators or high-class citizens with money to put their brats through this school. All it is is a political game at a child's level; parents use their children to be 'friends' with a rival's child and through them achieve their own ambitions and thus their spawns adopt the same habits. Kira awaits outside-he had already memorized the location and schedule of these kids (for this reason precisely) and leaned against his bike until the two appeared. Damian age twelve and Julie age sixteen, children of Mirandia and Adam Jackson. Kira waves at the two, only getting the boy's attention though he got the girl to notice him as well. The two walk up, both in awe. Kira bows slightly; "I am Kira Nightraven, The President's personal butler." He smiles kindly though the daughter is not in the slightest amused-certainly the spitting image of her mother.

"She send you to come get us?" Kira nods, "Your driver is caught in traffic; my ride is a bit less...conspicuous, therefore if you please..." He offers helmets in exchange for their belongings. Instantly the girl's mood lightened and the boy's is as bright as before. How bothersome.

"I call the side-car!"

In his head Kira growls: (Damn it.) That means the girl would have to ride on the main bike and hold onto him. Annoying. The bike zoomed off, catching the envious eyes of many students. As the bike dashes in the streets, under all the 'air-traffic' the two yell happily, but uncomfortably Julie wraps around Kira tighter.

"How did you get away with that hair?" She asked as they wait at a stop light. "That can't be natural I mean you're what mid-twenties?" The hum of the bike resonates within his palms and transfers from the arms to his chest. He remained silent-someone is watching them.

"Hey!"

He returns to consciousness and responds, "It is natural. When I was younger, I became ill and that resulted in the pigment in my hair to change. Never changed went back."

She liked the color, it seemed to suit him-a bright yet mysterious and stoic man. He is out of a fairy-tale or out of one of her 'manga' comics. Illness her ass, but in her imagination all sorts of stories bloom from fantasies of demons and magic to legendary swordsmen of ancient times.

"What was your original color?" She feels him shrug, "Black, I think." 

******Chapter 4-the malice**

Halloween is a preferred time of year. Many times he would be sent to flourishing festivals and the thrill of a mask combined with the confusion of dance and laughter made the chase all the more exhilarating. When they discovered they were being hunted, it became a fun game worth the wait. Though his employers were not fond of the methods they would not dare speak against a demon. Of course it is the same time that this year he would attend an annoying costume ball the President is obligated to attend. Apparently the governing of a country may wait for a ridiculous party as this. Surprisingly those who commanded him command that he attend a meeting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial; not the ideal place.

"This party the President is to be at tomorrow, an assassin will be present to try to kill her."

Kira curls a dark smile. Finally.

"Kill them-quietly, you cannot disrupt the party at all. Dispose of them quickly and we will deal with the body."

He is handed a data pad. His handler is a cautious man, he is loyal to the CIA and would not hesitate to expose Kira if there was to be revealed any alternative motives aside from the obvious. However he is an ambitious man and that will have him killed off quickly and hopefully it would be Kira to do it. Such is the game of politics: eliminating the threat by any means necessary unless they could not and in Kira's case it was considered impossible. The information is transferred to his phone and this deleted from any other source besides his phone and the main server. This may not be such a dull holiday after all-killing someone would certainly calm his nerves and it would be another angle for his own objectives to be brought closer. His handler stands and begins walking away, "Its been five years-I'm beginning to doubt their end of the deal." The man's heart sank, "Inform your friends upstairs to thread carefully Edward, my patience is not as extensive as my cruelty." He wore a silver mask which covered only his eyes, but his eyes were not phased at the sight of President Jackson wearing an old-English dress with a full-mask; only he knew her true identity-aside from her husband, dressed in soldier's uniform from the American Revolution. He was a thin man, light-skinned and frail; contradictory to the appearance and attitude of his wife. Opposites attract he supposed, but no matter another force could easily spin the two forces out of line. Kira chuckles to himself-that would be fun. The two children are at the house likely the teenager is as annoyed as he, but for a different reason. Now onto an important manner; there can only be one assassin here and there is room for none else. The trick is to sense the killing intent; to notice the movements and habits of all people at once. The assassin would not try to poison: too risky and the odds are too great to get a single person. Shooting would cause too much attention and would easily get caught in a place as this. Either they would appear up close, or have a propelled object. Kira smirks...a woman? How interesting. For a moment her husband ran off leaving her with no one: bad. Slipping between allies of social groups, and gaps through twos of people he seized the hand of the President and gently took her to dance.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She looked around at people fearfully then became very angry.

"Oh my you look upset, even behind that mask your beauty cannot be hidden."

"Shut up." She growled, tired of his continuous taunting. A single night without his smart-ass remarks, without his arrogant attitude and horrifying nature. That is too much to ask apparently. She spins around in his arms then they rotate with their hands, close, but did not touch. Kira smiled still though the President notices his eyes deviated toward another. As they spun again she glanced, but quickly was pulled back.

"Do not look."

He whispered, pulling her behind a pillar just as another dancing pair came between them and their new friend. He places her between his arms as he leans forward and looks across the room. The focus in his eyes was alien-again his personality changed. Kira stepped back and gestured toward the door behind them. Without a word being said she went first because for a reason she trusted him now. He did not toy with her, he did not mock her, rather lead her and instructed her as a strong protector and hero. Kira ordered her to go left then disappeared.

"Kira?"

None are around. Where has that bastard gone now!? Has he abandoned her-no is 'he' going to kill her!? A person runs into her; her heart skipped a beat as though her life flashed before her eyes all because of bumping into a young server girl.

"P-pardon me miss!"

She stuttered, sounding more surprised than the President herself. Maybe she noticed her coming in and hoped to help a lost guest; she wouldn't have been lost of Kira had not abandoned her as he did. Where did that asshole go anyway? The server flashes her knife-now! The knife flings out of her grasp and into that of another who stood across the kitchen with a sinister smile. (Shit!) She turned around to run, but it was too late-Kira had already seized his prize and was not about to let go. Not a single sound had been made and President Jackson, her target walks off unaware of anything. Kira had taken his arm and wrapped it around her neck, then held the knife up to her throat, pressing his body tight against hers to avoid any unnecessary attempts to counter his power over her. Mirandia left the kitchen, now with only the two of them so quiet they could hear the sound of the other's heartbeat.

"How did you know?"

"I'm one hell of a butler that's all."

She giggles, "Damn...I picked the wrong job-to go against the Re-" The blade is thrusted within her beating chest. The body drops to the ground, alive yes, but not for long. His attack would minimize bleeding and would allow for there to be a bit of gloating for another scum of the earth being erased. She stairs at him with a fear that had never been known before. He is so calm and collected, he did not hesitate and moved like a phantom; without sound or flaws. The perfect killer and yet the most sad-though she dies at the hands of this infamous killer, she had also looked up to this person. Kira bent down, but his malice and killing instinct had all, but vanished as he did from Mirandia. From his pocket he pulled out a single card; on its black coloring is the red signal the same as his hand. Softly he placed it in her jacket pocket and sat down beside her as she dies.

"Its nothing personal-you were in the way of my objective is all."

She giggles, "It never is in our line of work, but I guess its the law of nature: the weak are killed by the strong."

The assassin motions to her pant pocket; Kira reaches and retrieves the phone within. He stairs at the screen and once more his malice returns; "Interesting." Looking back, the assassin had died, meaning she is no longer of use and no longer suffering this cruel reality. Kira removes the datacron from the side and crushes the phone in his palm. This is going to be a very fun assignment indeed.

The President became unnecessarily difficult after the ball. Aside from his 'obscene' actions that night she suspected he had done something more-unspoken-ling she accused him of murdering someone. Kira's 'I have no idea what you are talking about' attitude finally pushed her over her limits.

"You called for me madam?"

"Yes, I should have done so earlier, but I'm laying down 'my' rules."

(Oh my, is she trying to threaten me?) He tries not to laugh at her; anyone threatening him is amusing, but Mirandia Jackson herself is priceless. Nonetheless he has been ordered to obey her commands as well which disables the ability to ignore her.

"You are not to go anywhere near my family outside of picking them up or dropping them off; is that understood? If you do I will personally have you thrown in jail to rot for the rest of your despicable life."

For a moment he is quiet, then he bursts into laugher, yet not loud enough for people outside the office to hear. How comical! Either this woman is brave or stupid, and neither he can determine! She actually has dared to threaten him; the humor in that is enough to make Kira fall over! To speak to a demon this way is very rare and amusing to him-maybe he should cease toying with her at this point. Ah, but what would be the fun in that? Say she is serious and it becomes troublesome if she does manage to have him thrown out.

"Fine, fine..." He waves his hand, "Its not in my job description to have anything to do with them anyway-you are my only priority."

Kira motions his hand outward as though he is offering emptiness; the pen the President uses it swiped from her grasp and pulled into his own. Jackson jumps back, knocking her chair over out of shock and fear. (How the hell did he do that!?) It was no trick, nothing touched her pen of herself, but moved of its own will into his hand. For the last time she has infuriated him.

"However allow me to emphasize something, Madam President...'I am a demon'."

His eyes are cold and menacing; carved from the pits of Hell herself, they hold an evil that Lord Satan himself would grovel into submission. She realized her mistake all too late, but for the safety of her family she would not fall prey to neither a tyrant nor a demon. Kira sits half-way on a table as the pen is twirled between his fingers; anything is a weapon. What to do now? Regardless if be is a mythical being or not, she has angered a very dangerous man, but the chain of command will be enforced and he must submit to her authority.

"My task is to protect you and to ensure you function enough to lead the country. I personally don't give a damn about your family or what happens to them."

He snaps his jaws at her sharp tongue, "Make no mistake-I will do as you say, but the moment one of your 'orders' comes between me and my objective; I will erase anyone who stands in the way-"

This time a knife is thrown lodging in the palm of his right hand. She has progressed in throwing at least. Kira lets out a heavy sigh, "Is the sound of money all you care about!?" He narrows his eyes-material things are useless outside of the necessity. The knife snaps in two at the power of his grasp.

"I simple know never to trust humans. One cannot count on them for anything, therefore I trust only myself."

Placing the two halves on the table he continues. She is too trusting of those around her, therefore she resents the wrong people and in the end will result in her death. She forgets her composure to these human emotions and looses sight of what's important. Such a lack of vision and personal courage is hardly suited to govern anything, not even her own self.

"I trust people because I know I can depend on them! I don't trust you because I can't depend on a heartless murder!"

Kira said nothing, he did nothing to comeback or further heat the argument. He stairs at the President with only emptiness in his eyes. She hesitated, she had not seen that expression on him before-silent despair. He collects the belongings and gently sets the pen on her desk. Without a word Kira leaves. (I had almost forgotten, I am a murder aren't I?) In the kitchen, most had left for the day; it was night and after dinner. So quiet is this room, no sounds, no people-he is alone. (I don't trust humans-I had nearly forgotten why.) Is his mind ceasing to be his? Has their control over him final taken ahold of his memories and begun to erase the true purpose of his existence? Perhaps its this task-far more variables than any other he has undertaken yet. It could not be, he would not dare forget his purpose, and the mask he wears is all for that purpose. A plate shatters in his palm.

 **** **Chapter 5-puppet and the teer**

The board of directors meeting had concluded, but It held no purpose. Stupid, greedy, arrogant people who believe they control all simply because of their position and wealth. Take that away and what are they: puppets for the masters to toy with as they please. Many of those foolish directors believed he was their puppet, but much it was the opposite; he held a unique position that was above their pay-grade and limited intelligence. Even to his leader she believed he was harmless, but his triumph care would be revealed soon. A slight obstacle obscured his path to power. What a troublesome woman she has become, but who is to oppose her? As long as he dangles her final target before her she will so whatever he pleases. With a bloodlust to match her ferocity there is no one who could hope to stand against now. Already she has infiltrated the White House and awaits further orders, but the conspirator is well aware of her cruelty, but she is only slightly less foolish than these Directors. Thanks to her blank slat of an ambition, his own ambition easily slipped in and soon she will have no recollection of her name if it hasn't been forgotten already. Nonetheless manipulating this fearsome pawn is risky, however unlikely, if it was to be discovered his true plans then she would no doubt murder a large number of people before taking her own life. That is the kind of person she is now-if you see fit to call her a 'person'. Many times he has seen the fruits of his labors and of her mess-not only was 'The Dragon's' style adopted, but as was an entirely new demented humor.

"Sir, your car is ready for you."

A security officer opens the car door; a bright and sunny day it is in the capital. Though one meeting has concluded there are many more throughout the day, including a Cabinet meeting planned for two thirty this afternoon. Its not like anything really gets done here-his work off the books, within the shadows is what protects this country, is what gets 'anything' accomplished. Soon his allies will arrive and together they will bring down this corrupt system and usher in a new age of wealth and prosperity. Of course 'some' sacrifices will be made, but for the sake of peace it is necessary. 

******Chapter 6—family**

Thanksgiving had been out aside for their family and them alone. The remaining staff and employees were sent home and even the food was left for the President and her family to cook. Kira had declined the offer though he would not say why. As ordered he ventured far from her family, but always had his eye on the President. This may have been the break he family needed, the breather that may help close the gap between parent and child. It was small talk at first, then gradually it grew, between their son and them at least. The teenager remained to quite and eventually excused herself to the halls for a breather. In reality she wanted to see the white-hair butler, the one she held a strange liking too in comparison to her own family as they stood. He was in the window, and by the looks of it he had fallen asleep. Flawless against the window, the light bounces off his skin like marble, and yet one side is off. There is a sort of discoloration, a small, thin, flatness in his completion stretching from above to below his left eye. He looks so peaceful now. Julie reaches for him, but holds back not wanting to wake him then again, pushing some hair from his face. Such a nice man, she wonders why her mother would not allow them to speak with...Kira? His eyes opened, Julie jumped because for an instant she saw a glimmer of black and red-quickly she dismissed the illusion when seeing his sleepy smile. (Did she think she could sneak up on me?) No, he is over thinking it-Julie is likely trying to defy her mother again. Kira chuckles,

"What?"

"The President will not be happy if she sees me near you."

The girl growls, "Well I'm near you, so she can shove it." Clearly she has resentment toward her mother. Pointlessly and without meaning he asks; why the resentment? He knows she does what she can to make her children happy and daily she sees them off to school even if she is away. If anything the daughter is causing the distress. No straight answer was given and since that is the case two conclusions are qualified: either she believes her parents should devote more attention to her or the both or..."Are you being bullied at school?" Julie's expression changed-quiet and sad it is obvious he had hit the goal, not that he would not. Kira sighs as he stood and began walking.

"It would be bothersome if the President saw us; why don't we go for a walk?"

He folds a hand in a pocket and waves for her to follow. She talked for nearly an hour, going on about how it was obvious she had no real friends because it was always for political gain and when she asked to go to a normal school the idea was shot down instantly. Sure she talks to people and yes she as people under the title of 'friends', but none of it was real. To his own surprise he did not find the conversation annoying or bothersome; infuriated he became at human nature and its cruelty toward the weak. Though he uses the system of the strong over the weak, there are exceptions made purely to preserve what sense of compassion is left. Kira huffs; compassion? To hear himself say such a word the way he is a both rare and frightening. He knows he must be rid of the emotion, but though humans are not trusting it cannot be helped to be envious of some of their simple joys. Its a foolish concept, but watching brings back a small bit of hope within himself of what life was once for himself. Julie is more open to Kira than to anyone else in the entire house. Surprising, he hardly speaks to her, but perhaps humans are like that-it must be easier to speak to someone who has no impression of them.

"How do you deal with it?"

"With what?"

The constant glares from her mother? Hardly anything to confess to.

"I know humans lie to me therefore it is only natural to do the same. Put on a mask of ignorance is my triumph card in public, however..." Kira looks outside the window, "If your mother did not dislike me perhaps I could help." Kira smirks, "Of course..." He gestures his hand over his mouth, "If someone was to do better in their classes, with my aid, then she may enable me to be more social with the her family."

He shrugs moving away from the open door. Julie gave a large smile, then ran into Kira, wrapping her arms around and hugging him tightly. His reflexes would be to snatch her arms, twist under them and dislocate both shoulders-for an unknown reason his body did not allow such a thing; they actually restrained these reflexes and 'allowed' for him to be embraced. How peculiar it is that this body should allow it-to allow anyone to be touched by him. Kira's hands however stiffened as he stared at them from over her shoulder. His hands are covered in black cloth, but still he can see their true color; tainted hands should not touch an innocent. Perhaps that is why he abides by human law and regulation: their frailty, their personalities; something a demon like he believes to be beautiful even against their wicked natures. Julie withdrew herself and returned to the gathering of family.

"Where were you?"

Her father asked playfully pushing her to the side. "Just went to the bathroom." Surprisingly she said with a smile; must have gotten lost, but of course he knows she lied. Not that he worried-looking to the door he saw the white-haired butler pass with sorrowful look after staring at his hands. What a nice person.

Kira returned home late, as always; last to leave, first to arrive and never a day off. It was better than sitting around all day waiting for he next task. At this point he no longer minded-to have a routine is nice, a change to the constant travels he underwent. There is no rest for him now-he must keep up his physical self and proceeds to change to running clothes. Though 'cold' out he would prefer to have a t-shirt and shorts, but the state of this body would arise unneeded suspicion. Long sleeves, gloves, a beeni, long sweats and running shoes. Normally ten miles is what he would run, but today it was cut short-a view from the top of Iraq War memorial leads him astray for the remaining time. (Ah.) Reds, purples and oranges paint the sky as watercolor. Mixing together in harmony as the sun dies beyond the western horizon. It was nostalgic to have the time to see a sight like this again, last time he had was-the thought trailed as he dropped on the rough grass. For a while he shut his eyes, recalling what pieces of his memories he managed to cling to during that time. With all his will, with all his strength he held onto what was left of his former self, only to chain it; only to tear it apart himself to ensure that self no longer existed for the sake of his goal. In his mind he stands in a back yard, lushes and green it is a very different time than now, but the scene changes; cracking as an old VHS movie, it faded to fields of white that bleed to red. Even to this day he feels the heat of that flame, for it was engraved on this body the same day as his fate was sealed. Slowly his eyes opened and it was night now (I think I will stop today.) He walked home, enjoying the cool air as it bites his face. There was no need to cover that mark here, no one would know him and after all the war it is to be expected to witness battle scars in the capital. On his return, something stirred behind-something followed without noise. He knew of a presence, and when he turned it was a surprise to see 'what' it was; a dog? The man glares at the thin, shivering animal. A dog is said to have better senses than humans and if so why dare approach a demon if not to ask for death? He turns away annoyed at a hopelessly blind animal. The following day Kira held bags under his eyes and was 'out of it' throughout his work.

"Are you alright?"

A chef pats his back. The poor man had dropped a plate and had nearly fallen many times. He nods, cleaning up the plate and fleeing to the bathroom. His vision blurs. (Sh-) He had not slept all night because of that stupid animal, carrying her and her pup in his home. This task has brought out an annoying side of him; a compassionate side toward fellow animals. Maybe he felt sorry for the beast, like him, thrown out into the world of man and left to parish. That side of him that ached his black little heart. The mother was left at home, Kira returned to his bike and withdrew the sneaky little bastard from his satchel-what will he do with a dog, nonetheless two?

"You got a new pet!"

The old man yelled needlessly. He jumped down from his ladder and came with large smiles.

"You like dogs?"

Kira extends the pup toward the old man.

"Yours."

With laughter, "I am far to old to take care of a little trouble-maker like him. You should keep him, a pet it always good for anyone whether they know it or not."

Kira stared at the pup, a Siberian Husky no doubt and a lot of unnecessary work. Who would say he could even keep the beast? All the travels and tasks he undergoes, not enough attention would be given to it or its mother. With a heavy sigh he folds his arms and the puppy inward, shielding it from the cold. In response it licks his chin, startling Kira at the affection. It must be defected, humans are afraid of him, of his very presence and this pup is not! Perhaps it does not understand its own senses yet, nor could its mother when at the brink of death. Head inside, the pup is covered by his coat then is rushed through the kitchen and onto a bathroom after slight thieving.

"Humans probably abandoned you and your mother."

The puppy runs around eager to have what is in his hand. He tears into a piece of chicken and devours it in nearly one bite. Humans are cruel, it is unquestionable they saw the two in the streets, but shunned them because of their appearance or because they are 'too busy'. He is not human and in-spite of his evil, the mother likely found comfort with him rather than those pathetic humans. Intensely he watched the pup, then relaxed. He would not leave them to suffer the hand of humans again, but the two better learn quickly who the alpha is. Still-how the hell does he take care of two dogs? He has never had a pet and already it is difficult from the start.

"I suppose humans name you, but I have no experience in such."

He curled in Kira's lap, what a bothersome creature. If he did move, then it would be annoying to hear his whimpering later on. Rather he remained still and messages a fellow servant to service President bitchy. The demon chuckles, what is the point of this anyway? Before all there was was the mission-whoever became involved, who got hit by the backlash and anything in between was never his concern. It is unknown what has changed; has 'he' changed? Impossible, in all these years he has not wavered nor can he allow himself to. Not if he was to fulfill his ambition. The pup slept nearly all day and no matter what Kira did he would not wake. Therefore, the pup was placed in an open backpack and kept on Kira throughout the day. 

******Chapter 7-without attachment**

Camp David has been the President's traditional vacation point for decades and it is likely never to change. The Secret Service had four rotations everyday to ensure each man and woman could spend time with their families. Everyone had been cautioned about icy conditions, seeing as a large cold front swept in most of the US from Alaska's area and blanketed much of the upper half-needless to say people did mind a white Christmas...all December. The staff were sent home and the President and her family of four were left alone in their winter cottage. Kira remained outside and sat on the corner of the patio. Its a traditional log cabin, a large one though, it could fit nearly ten comfortably and four spaciously. Quietly the snow fell down, and the temperature continued to lessen, proving to be troublesome for the butler. No thanks to his body, in the past he would have no issue in the cold, he enjoyed it much more than the heat in fact; however now a-days he must use a heat pad to ensure these joints did not shrivel to freezing and cause more issues later. The animals were left with the heater and sufficient supplies enough for two weeks. Cerberus and Athena, beings of Greek mythology are what he named them from, though the names he preferred would be too difficult for average humans to mouth. For the heater to function Kira was forced to remove his tailcoat, but remained for the coat to cover his shoulders and chest so not to draw attention. Though long-sleeved underneath, the shirt is white and thin and easily see-through. 'That' would be troublesome to explain. Edward did not release a time period for this task, nor any information on his objective-humans believe they are clever, nonetheless he would do as ordered. Protect the President at all costs; least he is getting paid. Even from this distance he can hear them talking, sharing coffee and hot coco before a fireplace. Though technology has advanced greatly it is good, to him, that there are those who still use traditional means. Not everyone is under the control of technology as Albert Einstein once said. (Christmas...what a pointless holiday.) Whether it is to celebrate the 'birth of Jesus' or to 'give back to the needy' its a pointless to condemn such feelings for a single day out of the year. The wind changes, now coming toward him and beginning to cover his unmoving self in its chill. There was a time he did the same as them, gathered around and celebrated, but not like this. Tiny footsteps tip-toe toward Kira and he is greeted with a wide smile of young Master Damon.

"Merry Christmas, Miss. Kira!"

(Miss?) Kira smiles nonetheless and stood, hiding his arms behind his back. He replies with a similar greeting, though the exact words do not leave his wicked lips. The boy held something behind his back and by the looks of his grin he wanted to show Kira.

"For you!"

Extended a piece of paper, Kira observes what is on it. A drawing of his family and far off to the side under a tree is a white-haired figure, oh himself, with a smile. Odd for a junior-high student to draw pictures, then again he is a bit more childish than those his age. Kira gently grasped the paper in his hand, then caressed the boy's head.

"Thank you Master Damon, this is one of the best presents I have been given!"

Happily the boy continues his smile, until his mother called for him from inside. Alarmed, Mirandia watched Kira as he stared at the paper her son had given him-the butler smiled softly at the picture, then carefully folded it and slid it into his jacket. She went outside, shutting the door behind her son, "I thought I told you to stay away from my family." She hisses walking toward Kira who leaned against the house.

"He came to me; unless you wish me to hurt your children's feelings-"

"You don't care about 'human feelings' remember?"

"No, but you do." He breathed adjusting his coat. Why the hell did this bastard come?

"You really don't get it do you?"

Kira raised a brow in curiosity, "I want to protect my family and all you seem to enjoy is causing more harm to them then anything else!" Technically he is following orders, protect the President and stay away from her family. What they do of their own accord has nothing to do with him. Of course he is the one to blame, he is he some enemy throughout the entire world, therefore all energy is directed at forcing him to keep his distance. In her eyes, regardless if what he says is true, he truly is a demon-he has no heart for anyone, but himself! Mirandia breathes, "Can you at least explain to me why you are even here?" Ah, she is acting a bit more rationally now-that's a relief.

"You do understand the point of Christmas is to celebrate it with 'family' right?"

Kira shut his eyes and pushed himself from the house. Lately he has been more collected and does not harass the President as he once did. He hardly speaks and only does when there is a question to him. At first it is hesitant to ask, but as frustrated as she is hiring his feelings is the least of her concern, "You don't get it do you?"

"Of course not..." He started walking off the patio. Kira turned his head with a gloomy look and continued, "All my friends and family are dead."

He disappeared for many hours, a small hope he froze to death, but even then she would feel bad. Her husband said he spotted the butler across the yard and was worried he was cold and set out with a hot drink and a blanket. Kira was strange indeed to him and did not act like a normal butler, but for him to be alone and out in the cold on Christmas is not something anyone should endure. Her husband does not know who Kira really is, not that she has a firm grasp on it either, and it is worrisome for him to go after Kira as he does. Then again, her husband has had an eye for the good in everyone, but in Kira's case he might be appealing to the 'false good' the butler portrays. He sat on the roof, not an easy feat with the condition of his arm. Using the chimney as a wind-breaker he leaned against it and shut his eyes with ears open. (You don't get it do you?) He touches his breast, (Humans take much for gradate don't they?) The legs are brought to his chest in an attempt to contain a bit more warmth. He has explained it countless times; demons are not like humans-they do not experience the same joys as others. Especially he of all evils, would not understand; does not have the right to understand those feelings again. Why is beyond him that he would accept a drawing from a child who had the misconception of the person he idolizes. Still...it is quiet interesting how the boy automatically addressed him as 'miss'. Kira giggles. The vacation ended after ten days, but the snow seemed to continue its own schedule and did not lessen. Kira had brought his bike and drove at the head of the President's caravan. If anything unnecessary happened it would be easier to escape with her rather than look for an alternate route should he remain in the back or center.

"The roads are icy, take care when you drive." Kira radioed through his helmet. His bike and skills are of no need to fear, but the lack of the same for the vehicles the Secret Service drive are a different matter. The snow flew into his face and it was night, but the systems in both his helmet and the cars should enable easy visibility. The party drives on the bridge-"LOOK OUT!" The first van screeched and oversteered across the black ice, the driver smashed the brakes, but it only made matters worse. Kira heard the sound and stopped his bike, just before the van flipped and nearly crushed him. Had he stopped even a second sooner he would have been killed instantly. The President's vehicle is hit by debris and spirals into the bridge barrier. Half rammed through the barrier and now most dangles over the edge above a frozen river.

"If she is trapped-!"

Kira bolts, jumping over the broken road and clawing his hands into the door.

"Get out now!"

The door is torn from its hinges. Mirandia had been thrown into the side of the door-her head smacked into the bullet-proof glass and she had been unconscious. The children crawled fearfully from the seats he ripped the door from. followed when ushering his children from the front seat. Kira reaches for the President; the driver is likely dead, however if he goes inside the weight will shift forward.

"Can you get out?"

His arm is the only thing holding the vehicle back and if he-the tire slips. (What!?) Kira is thrown back and the vehicle slips forward. (No!) His hand sinks into the trunk, but the brute force combined with the weigh of the car rips the back from its hinges. Forward it plummets, flattening its front by the ice then sinking to the cold black abyss.

"MIRANDIA!"

He leaps within the water, throwing his helmet behind. Cocking his arm back its thrusted forward breaking the ice that stood in his path. Its risky however there is no choice, Kira held a lung-full of air and swam to the bottom of the river, meeting with the submerged car. In normal circumstances a human has about three minutes until they lose conscious under water. If continuous for ten minutes then there is permeant brain damage and death. In below freezing temperatures those statistics are cut by more than half. Its black and endless now, he cannot see as a human, but he can with it. Slight changes in light and the vehicle is in sight. He has four minutes and forty-seven seconds of air left and that would be enough, for her. Kira swam to the unopened side-the power of his thrust would be less and the condition of this body would worsen, but that is nothing to concern; gripping the door, Kira squeezes and pulls the door open. The President does not move and the belt's emergency release has been jammed. The blade protrudes from his arm and slices the belt, Kira grabs her arm and passes air into her lungs before swimming up. Breaking the surface of the icy grave, the President is thrown onto Kira's back as he climbs-her hands tied by torn fabric for him to have both hands free as he climbed up. Waiting to be rescued from down here would have the President freeze to death. Remarkably she did not have water in her lungs which expelled the need for CPR. Kira climbed as fast a he could, for a hundred feet he climbed-muscles were stiff, his heart-rate began to decline and naturally this body would shut down, but because of this body such an end would be delayed for quite some time. The four in the flipped vehicle were likely injured if not incapacitated, three from the rear van would protect the family and perhaps one would be sent to assist Kira.

"How far to the nearest hospital!?"

He switched Mirandia to carrying her in his arms as he ran to his bike.

"Twenty-five miles south, but we have to wait-"

"She will die before they make it here!"

She would sit in front of him on the bike, but before then, from a guard Kira took his coat and removed the soaking sweater the President wore. Over a hundred miles and hour Kira arrived at the hospital in less than ten minutes-just bear-ly in time, Mirandia is placed in the ICU and by Kira's command he does not leave her side. 

******Chapter 8-a demon's mark**

Her vision turned black in an instant. The glass cracked as the van spun and was thrown to the side. She saw only darkness after that and a cold wave rushed over her in that darkness. In the distance she heard her name, but it became quiet for a long time. Alone in the darkness she believed this was the end-she was terrified her family would suffer the same fate; Kira would go on a rampage she was sure of it! That bastard said he would only protect her and if she died-! The light returned in a burst she thought it was Heaven, but Hell exists on earth in the form of the demon Kira Nightraven. In truth she has never been more happy to see him, to be assured that she is alive. Her vision is blurry, but that snow-white hair is all-to familiar, yet his face is away from hers; he sleeps in a chair. Slowly the President sat up and felt a heaviness in her entire body. The both reside in a hospital room and by the looks of it Kira has not let anyone in. He looks rather peaceful when he is asleep-a blanket covers only half his body, revealing the sleeveless shirt he wears...he had strange markings that tattoo his entire arm, yet now that she notices-the door opens. Kira eye snaps open.

"Ah, so you've woken up. That's a relief, Miss. Masters!"

The nurse runs out to fetch a doctor. Quizzically Madam President turns her attention to Kira who looked like an unkept mess. His hair is much longer than first thought and quite silky.

"Masters?"

"Can't have them realizing the President is hospitalized." He grunts scratching his neck as a dog would. Kira's actions were just and-"My family-!"

"Are alive and in much better condition than you or I." He sighs, "No I did not touch them, they happened to be saved when I first attempted to recover you from the crash."

He stood. Kira has a more slender body then she thought. For someone as him she would expect him to be well built, but for a male of his general age he's rather frail.

"Ah Miss. Nightraven, I see your friend has recovered."

(Miss?) Kira gives a sweet and innocent voice, "Yes! I'm so happy she finally woke up!" The gentlemen smiles as the display screen scans 'Miss. Masters' for any further injury. Aside from a low core-temperature and a minor concision she has no further signs of injury though her phycological waves are unusual because those with 'shock' are no as active as 'caution' and 'awareness'. A few checks and the good doctor changed his attention to Kira.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm much better!"

The two moved to just outside the room door. He was more concerned over Miss. Nightraven, she was in far worse condition than her friend. Not only have half her organs shut-down, but her core-temperature was far below normal not to mention the chance of frost-bite. She dove into below-freezing waters, pulled her friend from it and still managed to function enough to drive on a motorcycle it is true my remarkable! Refusing any medical care it seemed based on the sections loses evaluation he was able to perform her body naturally restart itself after being heated to a certain point! For an unknown reason, however, she would not allow him anywhere near her own body. He tried using force, believing her adrenalin was still in function and she 'thought' she was fine, but when they did attempt two-fully grown security officers ended up on the ground. Miss. Nightraven did not flinch-clearly she was a martial arts master. At last the doctor left havin the door shut behind him.

"Kira..."

The butler leaned against the window and opened an old-fashioned book.

"Are you a woman?"

Shrugging, "Biologically yes, I suppose."

"And you didn't mention this...?"

"You're the ones who inferred I was a male. I simply went along with it-its bothersome to explain things of that manner."

She flips a page. Just who is this person? Mysterious, she never speaks of herself, never speaks the truth without either clouding it or stretching to the point it is hardly considered fact. 'She' adjusts the blanket over a portion of her body, a slight tug to her shirt and the President witness discolorations of his-her arm. It does not take a fool to know she brought the President here, but what happened during the accident? Kira (now the girlish name makes sense) had been involved at some point, but she has no visual aberrations. A change of clothes, from what it looks and her hair is unkept and the only reason Madam President can think of is..."Did you jump in the water to save me?"

"Yes." She flips another page saying casually.

"What happened and don't you lie to me! Tell me everything you know, nothing left out!"

What an annoying woman, all of a sudden demanding answers to an obvious turn of events. Still she explained the black ice, flipping cars and her own vehicle suddenly taking a liking for a swim. The President is without end in her questioning-Kira obliged her,

"I am one hell of a Butler, if I could not tear a door off your van I would hardly be a staff of the White House."

"Tear a door-!"

There is no question now, she would never doubt this person's words again-regardless of their poison or the cruel nature of the speaker. What Kira says is truth and the President has been an arrogant fool for ignoring reality as it is. No human can pull a pen to their palm from ten feet away, nor tear a door off its hinges. Kira is not human! As the thoughts on what Kira is at last leave her the sight is changed to the markings on her arm.

"They are a testament to my sins."

She shuts the book and sets it beside her. One by one the tribal-looking tattoos are pointed to. The largest spirals around her shoulder and twists around the bicep. The second lies on her forearm and is the same color, though it is a different style. Its more symbolic, like something seen in old ruins on a door.

"Each one is a reminder of what I am; that I do not forget what I've done and what I must do."

All together the tattoos glow at the command of the one a-top is hand. From the abysmal black to crimson red then back again. Its strange that she should have these markings, why would a demon need reminders? Why would she care about them, its too...sentimental for someone like her. Unconsciously Mirandia did not want to ask about her other arm, why she concealed it, nor about what seemed like scars-for a demon, maybe she possesses a human body and it has been under her control for many years. Kira knows what ideas flutter in the woman's mind, but she is in no mood to add to the fire. The President is safe and alive and that is all that matters. Before the room is flooded with visitors (not a word either favored anymore) Mirandia did notice something on Kira's face-covered by make-up perhaps and for a moment she assumed it is the true form of a demon's eye. Her children rush in and leap on the bed, crying. Kira took her book and spoke to the Secret Service outside as the family reunited.

"There are two dead one from each vehicle."

She rotated the covered arm, the heat pad is working well and there will not be any frostbite.

"I want the data from all three vehicles and ensure that no one finds out about this." She glances back to the room and shuts the door. To ensure tighter security she had the display system from the President's vehicle routed to his helmet and as she saw the road from her visor the President's display had been different. Someone had hacked all three vehicles and likely staged it as a malfunction and an 'accident'. Clever, but not an absolute plan because she is around.

 **Chapter 9-release of tension**

Kira's presence had become...tolerable. It is still less than likable, yet it is nice to know she is to be counted on to protect the President's life. Instead of a bastard though bitch suits her much better. Upon the remaining staff realizing their mistake of the sex of Kira they all apologized and offered to make up for the 'mix-up', but she knew better. In their minds: 'why didn't she say something', 'is she a trans', or something of that nature. Quite frankly whether they thought of her as male or female makes no difference, her skills and strengths would be no different. Her attire had changed since the incident with the bridge, though not much in her taste in clothing. Kira's long silky hair hung down below her shoulders and surprisingly she is rather beautiful, for a demon.

"You seem relaxed."

Pouring an ancient Jasmine Tea, Kira comments at the President's unusually laid-back attitude this afternoon. She had grown tired since the New Year began, more conferences, three out-of-country trips next month not including the anniversary ceremony in New York toward the end of the month.

"Anniversary? I don't recall there being any celebrations particular to New York."

"You're joking? Five years ago, the attack on the UN by the terrorist organization known as 'The Hand'? This year marks the final five-year restoration of the building and the memorial."

Kira looks at the screen, not that Mirandia minded. The fact she is showing interest is a nice change. Though a demon is a demon, maybe she can learn a few human emotions. The President shifts the screen toward her. Kira watches with curiosity as images and videos of the new United Nations are played for all the world to witness. New channels will likely be broadcasting this event as well and the papers are already ranting about it. Five years ago during a youth-conference at the UN, the entire building went under siege by an infamous terrorist group that began popping up in the east after the break-down of ISIS. During that assault more than two hundred people were killed and yet by some miracle over three hundred were saved by the notion of a single girl.

"As I recall a human girl went on a rampage."

"She saved hundreds of people in exchange for own life. That's more than enough to ask of anyone."

Kira raised a brow, that girl she had heard much about. 'The Guardian Angel of New York', was a student who apparently attended the conference as a class trip. Mirandia pulls a picture of the burning UN. There are scattered reports of what occurred inside the building between the first explosion and the 'survivor's appearance'. Kira huffs as a blurred picture of the bloody 'hero' appears. That little girl was a weak fool-she gave her life to save others who would never show their gratitude, but only take it for granite that it was 'expected' of them to be saved. Among humans she was strong because she fought to preserve her own life, but the moment it changed to protect others that life was forfeit.

"Its better to be hurt, than to hurt others..."

"Hm?"

"A human once said that to me."

What a foolish human, that wasn't strength, it was survival-she could not choose between preserving herself and saving humans. Its cowardice. While choosing both really she lost both in the end and it killed her;

"As I recall her family was killed shortly after..."

Mirandia leans back, "Yes, many theories went out that it was the man who she spared that was responsible, but he vanished after being taken into custody somehow." Kira sighs, "If she had just killed him-"

"Are you seriously critiquing someone who has already died?" Mirandia was not angry rather found it strange he would bother with something like this. Kira ceased the topic and placed the tea pot on the trey. (You did tell me to tell the truth.) Nonetheless that is reality, if that girl had killed the terrorist then he would not have escaped and killed her own family-not that she lived to know the repercussions of her lack of choice.

"Actually if memory services me right she did not make it out alive."

"No, that's what the dedication will be for at the end of the month. The nations came together to rebuild the entire area which involved expansion to make room for the new gardens and the memorial stone."

A memorial stone? Such an odd concept humans have-as long as the person is remembered then they will never truly die; part of the reason her existence is sustained in this age. If Kira knows her opponents, and she does, there is no doubt they will make a move to harm any one of the countries. There is a statue that is to be placed in the center of the front courtyard, its a memorial to the girl who 'saved' all those people that day. There is no picture at the moment, but Kira guess they will have some grand depiction of the 'Guardian Angel'. Of course this is the same girl who was also referred to as the 'Death God'. (Pfff, killing a few dozen people is hardly a feat.) Still the butler had to be on guard, her very own 'Madam President' has the ingenious idea of taking her entire damn family to this ceremony. That is prep-work she wishes not to do. Still its not a matter of where, but when and how these opponents will attack. At least he will have something to kill, its getting rather dull and boring once again. Slowly everyone became accustomed to Kira's more 'logical' personality-surprisingly enough is that she showed it a more often, especially when the President asks her opinion on certain matters. She never had to tell Kira anything because somehow she always knew, even before the President did. On occasion the butler would fetch the children, but against her mother's strong rejection Julie had been given permission to go out with Kira for shopping. The daughter did numerously sneak out, but at least now she would have someone protecting her, though she didn't realize it. Mirandia managed to reason with Kira that if her daughter got hurt than she would become distressed and such would affect her ability to function as the President. Though Kira saw it as an excuse she agreed.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with her."

"Kira?"

The secretary sips the tea when the two discuss this week's schedule. Kira hides many things, but that is not what is alarming. The butler informed them that she worked under the CIA, but nothing further. After much struggle they managed to secure her fingerprints and DNA, yet still there is no match. Months have gone by and they seem further from the truth than from the start. Mirandia has looked through all sorts of records and there is no trace of her before here. Among that problem there is also the international matter of assassinations of high-profile targets on 'everyone's' list. This person known at the 'One-Eyed Reaper' has been running around the globe killing hundreds of innocent people.

"One of the topics of tomorrow's Cabinet meeting are for the new international regulations concerning the country 'The Hand' originates from."

A bright idea popped into her head-to catch an assassin, why not ask an assassin? With Kira's skill-set she no doubt has experience (in information) and would be of greater help, especially with her connections.

"No."

Kira rose her brow and had an annoyed look, "You can't?"

"I never said that I said no, there is nothing to gain if I assist you."

She follows a very simple principle-her own leaders understand it, but do not approve of it much. Equivalent exchange is not a great deal to ask for; to gain something of equal value when losing something. She would be losing her time and resources and for what? The President asks what she would want, but Kira just smiles lightly. What she desires nothing the President nor anyone could get, but there is something she that would prove great use. Nothing of importance to anyone, but him.

"There is an ongoing development of a very unique material-a type of metal. I want it."

"What would you do with it if I gave it to you?"

Kira gestures her hands as though she is measuring something. With that metal the ideal weapon can be crafted, a god-like one that is nearly impossible to break or damage. Not only that, but if her knowledge is correct then the metal can be crafted easily to be armor as well. This material is still in the prototype stage, but the humans have shown that it is well-accomplished. If she can get her hands on that metal then it is another step closer to her goal.

"Nothing that you need to be concerned about."

 **** **Chapter 10-across the sea of time**

Kira kept away from the windows and it was noticeable she was. President Jackson thought it would be a very enjoyable payback-Kira is afraid of open water. She served and acted normal, by never went too close to a window. Their destination is Germany, however due to the secluded area the only way to reach the location was by boat-provided by Germany's President of course.

"Sea-sick?"

Kira crouches over the side of the boat while her employer. What a useless butler, she can't go on a simple boat ride without getting sick.

"Shut up."

The President laughed when passing a bottle of water. Kira can kill a person without mercy, leap into unlimited perils to her safety, but gets sea-sick in less than ten minutes.

"I am curious-how does a demon get sea sick?"

"Lets just say I don't exactly enjoy getting wet."

Mirandia snickers, "You can't swim!"

"No, I don't like swimming with sharks in particular."

A simple task of sabotaging a cargo ship and making it off with a target, which resulted in going overboard with said target. Needless to say Jackson felt a slight sense of pity for Kira's state, but after a bit she considered it karma and went on with her activities. The butler was the first off the boat and onto land. About now it is wet and foggy, early morning weather for northern Germany. The purpose of meeting was to form a strategic offensive against the 'Hand'-led civil war within India. As Kira had no business inside she stood in the common room where staff members and selected press mingled with one another. Alone she resided outside as the cool January air brushes her cheeks-its nice weather.

"Have you finally realized?"

The words vaporize as they leave her mouth, burning the air with their heat. It was not hard to notice the presence and even less to know who it was, since she had already spotted them shortly before. That person came closer, molding half of their body to Kira and nuzzling the face into the woman's shoulder. She is a warm as ever, Kira is. At times her icy personality froze all impressions of her, but this person knew her as she really was. How many years has it been since they spoke? How much time has passed since they were able to see each other, and hold another fondly? Kira has changed since then, her appearance-not only had she grown, but also her hair had changed and for a time this person had not known it to be her, yet she knew who they were from the beginning. Its obvious the gap between them had grown, but by how much? Had one changed and distanced themselves beyond reach? Such things were frightening and it was only by seeing her give a warm smile that they are reassured that this is, even if a fragment, of that person.

"I missed you."

They release Kira, but for a moment, then keep close to her side when they too lean over the patio.

"Ya...its been a while huh, Amy?"

Her blonde hair is as lushes and light as ever. After all this time she had not changed at all and for that Kira was grateful for-at least one of them had not changed. The only thing Kira would say she is grateful for. Their paths crossed on the plane, a simple accident that became their reunion, but only one had recognized the other. For weeks it plagued her mind as to how she knew that person; a woman that dressed as a man. Someone with such an impact on appearances would never be forgotten and then there was the feeling when she gripped her arm after fall...it wasn't natural. At that moment it came to her-it was 'that person'! The one with no name, with no past, the one who thought she had no existence at all! The time following that was for evidence, to know with one hundred precent that it was her, then after a rumor circulated about an accident she was sure. Two words: 'butler' and 'saved'. Those words she knew only one person is capable of such a thing. Like an addiction Amy searched for her drug and after sleepless nights, days without end the opportunity presented itself. 'I must go to her side.' A whisper that urged her to find this woman, to stand beside her once again-after how the two departed...after watching her back as she walked, only to stop and give a very lonely smile farewell would not be how it ends. Amy feels a tightness in her chest because back the. woman had been smaller than her, frail and frightened, but before her is a strong individual who had a darkness in her than is greater than before.

"Your name is Kira now?"

"Yes. Kira Nightraven what I've been called, but its not like I own that name. And what about you? A reporter, quite a step down."

"Says the demon who used to be shorter than me."

Kira chuckles. Amy Richardson, not a person she believed she would ever meet again; a small world indeed. All these years, no calls, no letters, and here she thought Amy would have forgotten her...maybe it would of been better if she had. As Kira is now, it would be best for Amy's sake if she had been erased from her memories-actually anyone who was not involved directly should have had their memories erased. Oh well.

"I thought you had died."

Kira touches her head and caresses it softly. She must have been through a lot, a human under those people does not simply walk away with consequence. That she was able to leave so easily may have been because she did so at the beginning. Amy likes this name, rather than the nickname since she did not seem to have a name; of course everyone knew her by that name alone later on. Deep down Amy wanted to ask if that pain was worth it, if whatever happened before and after (she wished to know that too) was worth the price.

"'I' was not the one who died."

There were suspicions, but really it was an open truth as to who and what she was even then. They were told never to ask questions and never to speak of it, but few followed and even now those who stayed behind probably betrayed that swore long ago. (This topic is depressing.) Amy thought when she takes her weight off Kira and turns to lean her butt against the rails.

"Nice hair."

It sits in a pony-tail now, but with ease it can be known how silky and long it truly is. Suspicious, Amy pokes at the left of Kira's face, (Its not real.) She is not rusty enough to neglect something like that-Kira hid it very well, but not from her trained eyes. The wind kicks up, taking Amy's hat with it. In a single moment Kira jumped the rails, leaped another four such feet and recovered it before flying beyond. Amy's heart skipped a beat-this person had changed because that skill is one only a trained soldier would do. The person in front of her may be the same outside, but in her heart..."You've changed." Kira stared at the landscape, "I'm not that person."

"I know." She touches Kira chest, "But you're still 'someone' right?" Her hand traces Kira's body up to her face, gently Amy touches it, stroking just under the eye. In this entire world, she is the only one who can understand who this person really is; the only one to accept the evil that is this person and the only one this person could trust. (What did they do to you?)

"I wish I was..."

Kira relaxes and shuts her eyes as the heat from her body is passed onto Amy's chilled hands. (Even if its for a little while) An image of her demonic self appears in her mind, (Let me have this happiness.) Amy did not know her, so it would be alright...if they stayed this way, just a bit longer. Its a selfish wish, but the path the butler walks is one where the destination is already known. Even if its a lie, even if its for a fraction of time she wants this peace because soon she will return to the pit. Amy knows there is as gap that exists, though Kira seems to have closed it, the reporter is cunning and knows this woman better than even herself. Though Kira seems to accept Amy...still she pulls back; hiding deep in the darkness of the mind, she was not always this way, so strong, yet frightening. 

******Chapter 11—Feelings**

By Kira's counsel, Amy was permitted to receive exclusive access to all the President's speeches and a majority of the meetings. The President was enthusiastic for an odd reason, something to do with Kira having a friend or of the sort. (I don't know what the deal is...I don't even remember what a friend is.) Since December the butler returned to her usual duties and also acquired additional ones on the account of caring for the children. A bothersome order that required to be away from the President and was very irrational and annoying to Kira. One morning as she folded the daily newspaper (its remarkable how these paper-run industries have remained in business) and took note of a side-story titled 'The assassin among us'. She chuckled at the small article when setting it beside the tea. The President spoke on a video com to the head of state of New York and after the mayor of New York City. Kira felt no need to dwell and made additional rounds to provide snack to the staff and assistance the fellow servants. Amy was likely running around and prying into the lives of the staff or the President though Kira never sees her as that type of reporter. Amy is a seeker of truth, not some second rate that only wants dirt on anyone with quite a bit to lose. If they meet later, then perhaps she can shine some light on this 'assassin' article if the Colonel does not tell her. To Kira's surprise she has received no word from the organization; not that she cares to-unless they had their end of the contract fulfilled. Cerberus and Athena have grown much since living with Kira. Though his mother is still in poor health, Cerberus has a vast amount of energy and enough to run beside Kira nearly every evening. However because he runs with her, she has reduced the distance and changed to more of a speed-type training; keeping up with the pup is a challenge itself. She could not remember when there was a peace such as this-of course it came before the storm and that is well known, but nonetheless its comforting. All this time the only thing that mattered was the task at hand and if her true purpose would lie at the next one. (How annoying.) These things are unnecessary, all she wants is to find them, kill them and be done with it! Why is it taking so long? Make your move already! Waiting, waiting that's all there is anymore is waiting-her patience is gone and if the players do not make their move soon she will do it for them. The pawns are in place, what remains now is for her opponent to make the first move-the one move that will cause the means of their end. But what point is there to think of such things right now? As tiresome as waiting had become its all that could be done at the moment. Of course if she just killed everyone now then she would disrupt their plans for the time being. No, that could cause to many irregularities in all their plots. A few more months...this nightmare would end and so would this false existence. Later Kira returned upon request and was met with the article she noticed earlier opened and facing her.

"This person, the 'One-eyed Reaper', what are your thoughts on them?"

Within the meeting room was the entire Cabinet and the one who asked was Secretary of Defense Mr. Alex Simson. Certainly the President did not mention Kira to them, therefore many of these tedious gentlemen must know-regardless if Kira herself submits to only one of them. For a moment Kira stayed quiet, then immediately her speech and tone changed to a familiar 'superiority' attitude. Though on the inside she wanted to bask in their fear, instead it became a rather casual conversation.

"I don't have an opinion on your assassin of that's what you ask."

"This assassin, this 'One-eyed Reaper', according to our sources has a direct link to the core of the terrorist organization known as 'The Hand'-"

"That is wrong-", "Absurd-" The Secretary Simson and Kira both agree to disagree. The Secretary continues, "Our intelligence suggests otherwise." The blinds shut over the windows and screens unraveled all around the room. A drawing is shown, not much detail but the assassin's mask is recognizable. Black, it could be wooden, or of some hardened material that could be plaster. The design is simple, and has no known user or significance other than its pearl white color. (Pictures displayed here)

"Code-named R0021, this person is no different than any other assassin. We pay, they do-"

"Are you suggesting we hire an 'assassin'?"

He shakes his head, "Not hire, 'pay' for information. Even if we somehow caught them, what we know is the 'Reaper' would not yield to anything we do, therefore we must be smart about how we approach, of we approach."

Kira sat down in the corner, Madam President had noticed her disinterest and thought of a way to end her boredom in a way that would benefit the entire action.

"Kira...is there a way you could find this assassin? Quietly?"

Kira rolls her eyes, "No, its impossible for me."

The 'One-Eyed Reaper' did not yearn this name for nothing-they can see the future is said, hell no one has escaped them once caught in those sights. This person murdered an entire platoon of terrorists single-handedly and these people expect 'Kira' to find them? She almost pissed her pants from laughing on the inside. Humans are every bit as foolish as she thought-they cannot find or kill a demon. Not to Kira's surprise, she was summoned to meet with the Colonel and discuss the matter of New York that would take place in one week time. She had come with be dogs, the both wore sweaters to brace against the frozen January winds. The colonel was not amused, he did not care for animals nor that Kira of all people would bother herself with them either-then again she may have become bored and gotten them on a whim.

"How much longer must I babysit these conceited humans? Their very presence infuriates me."

Edward felt a sense of relief, Kira was in a good mood. Once something is said Kira very rarely repeats herself, therefore he would not have to use an excuse for not fulfilling their end of the contract. Not that it would matter if they do or not-she belongs to the program.

"Will you be able to function properly?"

Typical for him to ignore the question, "Of course-You cannot expect me to be like you, its unfathomable."

"I see."

Kira is a demon, she cannot be capable of feeling the same emotions as humans. Many do not comprehend this fact and ignore it, in turn they feel pity and with sympathy comes the ultimate reality: true evil exists. Still...it will be quite exhilarating, to be there again, to the place where she was brought forth...where that person died. She could not be affected by that place, if so then all would be undone and Kira would sooner kill God himself then all these efforts be wasted. Kira...is not capable of feeling the same as humans and never will she. If it means forgetting both of them then so be it, she will not lie-its frightening at the thought of forgetting the one she treasures, but placed on scales the consequence is worth it.

"It would be a shame if the old-gang doesn't have a little reunion."

The Colonel, Edward, shutters at her malevolent grin, "Its not the time, ensure the President survives long enough to gather our assets."

"As you wish." 

******Chapter 12-Requiem for the Fallen**

Kira and Madam sat in the car alone while the Secret Service ran around and the driver went to fetch her family. It has been strange, the quiet nature her butler exhibits since arriving in New York. She wanted to ask, but felt there would be no clear, if no answer at all. Nonetheless her curiosity would not be contained and it was to to have any answer though it may be a lie.

"From your point-of-view, what do you think of Destiny Knight?"

Kira stairs out the window, watching as the snow fell and melted; rained down on the car only to freeze again when reaching the ground. She hates snow, its the one element that can perfectly absorb and display the color of red. That is how she was brought out to this world, deep from the corners of darkness and coming forth because of that color. It had been vivid in her memories of that birth, the only person who can remember their own birth, but as the years past it became clear unto the point where every detail every emotion is carved on this body. Now Madam asks what she thought of 'Destiny' of the person who is hailed as a hero of nations, but hardly as the angel of death. Kira guessed such crimes of a scale are over-looked when saving more than taking. Humans are hypocritical bastards and for accepting such a crime she could not decide if it was correct or wrong to overlook such evil. How curious humans are, they go about that 'thou shall not kill', but if it is for a 'higher purpose' such a thing is 'correct'.

"Age seventeen; American citizen; daughter of Frank Knight; no significant events nor unusual behavioral patterns to indicate the capacity for tactical maneuverability."

For someone who said they held no interest in bothersome things this was strange. Of course Kira would probably say because the Madam is apart of the ceremony that it "became necessary to acquire intelligence on the matter" or something of the sort. Still...its the most Madam has gotten Kira to speak this entire trip.

"When the whole thing ended, new reports continued for a long time about her-behavior, physical, conspiracy, all sorts of things. I myself wanted to understand just how someone, regardless of age or anything, could have a will to protect someone like that."

Kira glanced toward Madam who shuffled the glass screen to see her speech. How odd, a human seeks reasoning, but also sees to carry on the memory of a person they to do not know. Inspirational figure, don't make her laugh Destiny Knight was a human who failed overall. She may have saved a few humans, but the scale of her failure spans to this day to this city and every country in the world. Kira analyzes her actions and knows that person knew of the consequence, but cast them aside unconsciously and in a sense perhaps she did not care for the future-she held a hope that 'everything will be alright in the end'. A naive way of thinking, but it matters none now.

"The consequence of her actions out way the reasons for them. She was a foolish human who believed a lie until the end; that one could choose both."

"Is all you do is denounce people because their choices are different than yours?"

Kira huffs, "Its always both choices with you. You do realize its impossible to choose both because really you lose both."

"That isn't what I believe nor what she did."

The butler chuckles slightly rotating his shoulder. What stupidity there is no such thing as a happy ending, no such thing as equality in this world. No one truly understands each other, regardless of how similar, how well they believe they know that person each has a secret un-shareable. Kira jesters toward the glass screen.

"Obviously you don't know her as I did."

The Madam is silenced-Kira knew Destiny 'before' New York? This demon...could not possibly-no Destiny had nothing to do with the government then why; the two of them did them make a deal?

"As I said before she failed because she didn't choose-Destiny choose to spare the leader of 'The Hand', whether she knew who he was is irrelevant; the fact she spared him even after slaughtering all his men had been the cause of everything to today. Saving a few hundred humans that day resulted in the death of thousands in the last five years-"

"You can't put blame on her! She couldn't possibly know-!"

"But she did, 'I' told her."

Kira has been awake for only a few years, but long enough to have warned Destiny of the outcome and still she chose to protect those 'friends'. It could be she knew the outcome, she knew she would die and that Kira would take the burden of consequence. Of course later though Destiny regretted her choosing of both a part of her still had been content with what had been done.

"She knew-about the attack?"

"No just about killing the leader of 'The Hand'. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure that is when I brought out."

"You were there!? One of her friends or someone she saved!?"

The butler shook her head, "Don't be ridiculous, I am not the sort of demon who will be saved by a human; rather I protected her, until she disappeared at least." The car became silent and just as Madam was to ask another the door opened and her family entered. Damian and Julie wished to sit beside Kira (making Madam uneasy) and most of the ride to the United Nations was the chatting between the children and the butler. When arriving the place is already packed full of delicates and leaders, press and worshipers of nations. Kira did not remain beside them after leaving the car, she disappeared and would not be found.

"I see you have once again hidden yourself well."

She shrugged while tightening the armor around her leg, "If what you saw is true then I shall have to eliminate them once again."

"Will you hesitate this time? After all these years, all that you have endured for the sake of revenge-"

"Do not confuse me with some petty human. I don't care about it anymore." She interrupted, "Revenge-the self-seeking desire in an attempt to find self-satisfaction. I do not desire revenge, no, something much more...entertaining."

He left, feeling satisfied that his greatest creation would not be swayed and would remain loyal to him. It looks like there will be no need to fulfill their end of the bargain-its become voided. It is for the best, he likes this personality, this demon. Despite her nature, she is much more understanding of his work and will comply with all he commands. Yet, to think she no longer desires revenge is quite surprising-the she-demon does not have a forgiving nature therefore there must be a far more malevolent plan ready to unfold. His greatest masterpiece, no 'the' greatest, not even those of 'The Hand' could match her in this state. After their brief conversation Kira glided across the fresh layer of snow and stayed closest to the main platform between the common mass and the important speakers. In all there were perhaps five hundred people in all and another thousand outside the gates. They all watched and admired; electric posters and old-fashioned wooden, signs and pictures of all who died and spared this day five years ago. 'The day time froze', 'The battle of New York', 'Hell's Gate'-it had many names, but most countries (after it becoming a global holiday) named it 'Savior's Day' in honor of the 'selfless sacrifice' a single girl gave to protect people. Most of those people outside the UN were locals who watched the horror as patronage to a fellow New Yorker. Once there had been a statue just outside the main entrance-a glorious gift that Kira had no intention of remembering the facts for. It fell, unfortunately on their 'hero', but had not caused her death. Now stood another object, just as large, but unknown to all aside the artist who crafted its ageless glory (meaning it was covered). Certainly this place is larger than recalled, back then it had seemed an incredibly short distance when running around. She looked around as the VIPs are captured in video and picture; how nostalgic. To think this was the beginning of the end, the opening to a grand and complicated existence; a very entertaining show.

"Happy Savior's Day!"

Kira asked Madam why they celebrated a day where many had died, is had answered to what sounded as sarcasm: a day to remember those who hadn't died because of the deeds of those who did. The concept escaped Kira, but a small amount was grasped at its appeasement to human emotion. The secretary of the general assembly opened the ceremony, starting with the beginning of the day everyone would never forget-how comical New York City is the setting of things of tragic nature. Kira listened when scanning the area-nostalgic indeed, no fires or crimson snow, no charred bodies, or pieces of bodies; broken fragments of building and burning skies, its almost as though it never happened. There had been a debate as to showing the captured video, but such scenes were deemed...graphic, therefore only news broadcasts played them.

"Humans..." He began, "Have endured much in our short history. Regardless of nation or ethnicity, culture or religion there is one thing we as humans have always shared-sacrifice." A humble speech, no doubt spoken to arouse human compassion and humility. "But it is not just any sacrifice we gather here today for. It is to honor to deeds of a single person of a woman who, against unimaginable odds, rose from the ashes of despair for the sake of others. Without an inch of selfishness she fought and endure to protect not only her kin, but those who she would never know." Kira glanced toward the American President, she looked as though she was about to cry-pathetic. Why are they so keen on the idea that Destiny Knight 'protected' and 'saved' all those people? It was likely they needed an icon at the time and the fact her small rampage was visible on all corners of the globe proved quite convent. The butler grunts, (Killing dozens to save a hundred is still killing. Humans will 'always' overlook rationality 'for the good of the people'. Hypocritical fools.)

"In honor of Destiny Knight and all those who passed from this world on the twenty-third of January I give you the 'Heart Stone'!"

The electric vail around the statue fades to clarity giving full sight of a truly wondrous piece. In its center are three figures, Destiny stood in the center with two large wings protruding from her back and enclosing around two people-the friends she protected in this courtyard. It is made of white marble, and likely is to project the image that she is a saint-Kira heard that the Vatican is discussing honoring her as a Saint within the Catholic Church. Destiny looks upon the two she envelops with kind eyes and a gentle smile; quite a different expression in reality she gave. Though they were right about a smile, but it was mutilated and soaked in blood that had not been kindness, but pain and weariness. How humans twist reality to suit their own means, Kira knows this-Destiny did not wish to be a savior, she was an unfortunate naive girl thrown by chance into a fight that was never hers. No sense of duty, no will to protect, all it was was action and reaction-it was unfathomable that she was had been rational most of the fight. (I had nearly forgotten...how pitiful of me.) Her eye pulses...this body knows this feeling. Kira's lips curl and eerie smile, they are here. Hidden within the crowd her prey waits patently. First they will come for the guards, those who protect the speaker. Just as before it will involve taking hostages and keeping as many alive as possible, still how they plan to remain alive in the open is beyond her...unless...she looked to the helicopters. All of it will be for public view, that no matter when it where no one is safe. (Too bad you were weak, we could have ended this long ago.) Kira glances at the statue-a false representation of her evil nature. She fell back some, coming closer to the Madam as she gave her speech. Likely the woman did not know it was Kira, but very soon that would change-The bullets flew from every corner, inside the the crowd, the buildings across the street, the guards themselves; the First Husband is covered by Secret Service, the daughter as well-Kira is faster than them, she dived under the Madam's legs lifted her up and ran. Cradling like a babe and fighting like one Mirandia screamed and yelled as she watched her family vanish in chaos. The sound became silence and as black and red and white erupted around them only a single sight would be seen. Her son...taken with no speed to which its believed to be a movie progressively moving less than forward. They had captured her son, her child, the little life that grew within her-family. Reality came back quickly as roaring sounds deaf-ind the ear and as the reality of death ran over her it was now obvious the true meaning of fear.

"LET ME GO!"

She slams her fist into the guard's chest; squirmed, anything to get away, anything to go back! The President screamed with such rage and hatred Kira believed it possible now to warp her heart-"KIRA!" She took the knife from her vest, thrusted it into the taker's arm and was dropped. The butler grabbed her by the hair and threw the baggage behind cover, then came onto her and wrapped her hand around the precious throat, lifting her off her feet. This was on instinct.

"The lives of your family mean nothing to me!"

The knife, had not touched her flesh, it bounced off it, dropping to the ground with a broken end. Such weapons of humans proved no match, but still it probably scratched. Kira pulled off her helmet (though she wore a mask its known who she is) and brought the woman to meet her eye.

"If you die now, everything those two died for will have been for nothing!"

Madam had not seen it, a jagged scar that runs down her left eye. Concealer would do just the trick, but something like this-"Y-you're just a demon! Ho-w could you possibly understand!?" She coughs, "I-if I-I don't have my family, t-then I can't be President-and-you-will-fail!" Kira drops her and crumbles to her own knees, laughing darkly, "I wonder...if there were more people like you..." The laughing stopped as she removed her vest armor. "Maybe...we would have turned out differently." Kira threw the vest over Madam then relayed her unconscious, hiding her body within an old missile monument. For a moment she stared at the spot, gripping the helmet in her hand.

"You're right...I can't understand..." The helmet clicks back on, "Greed; lust; envy; pride; sloth; gluttony; wrath-I don't feel any of them. She clenches her hand, "The human part of me died a long time ago." Kira dashed; past the police lines, over the mangled, shredded from bullet bodies, into the flame of battle. In this place, with this body; these hands that take life only, Kira carves her way through the soon-to-be human caucuses. The boy is in the center, guarded by a small fire team fronted by three squads of firepower. Kira laughs at their hope, no more of their trained instinct of victory, but it is not enough. The bullets nick her hidden armor, yet do not hinder her in the slightest-this is nothing. Kira zig-zagged through the people, using her broken blade to cut the enemies the moment of passing. The blood splashes in her face, on her clothes giving evidence of the nature of demons. Without warning an arm came down colliding roughly with Kira's arm. (Ha!) A sinister grin-an acceptable opponent at last! This must be it-the latest in human-cyborg technology! They kick, punch and fire-What a thrill!

"Tell me who do I have the privilege of killing!?"

imminently it became a dull fight. This is one of those 'Dolls' a blank body with no personality, hardly capable of being called 'human'. Not that she is one to say much, but these are less than human and even worse than 'demon'. They are either breed from scratch in the art of war, or have nearly everything about them erased in unique manners. All that remains are empty voids, incapable of self-reasoning and only take orders-that attached with the 'War Body' gives them far superior physical capacity; does not account for much against a demon. Kira began with the spine-wired and screwed into the cord ripping out 'War Body' spine also ripped out the human spine. Just as-Kira hesitated; the eyes of the boy is felt upon her. (Sh-) A quick duck under his arms, then a pivot and the knife is inserted in the nap of the neck. The body fell and the remaining gunmen froze.

"You have put me in a rather bad mood."

The terrorists jump back with chills in their spins. Understandable, to fear evil to cower before the darkness of this demon is an expected reaction. Kira continues, "Don't expect the same mercy as before."  
In that moment, between the gaps Kira wove, ending those only on the intended path until-she grabbed the boy with her stained hands and held him close to her chest. (I will not fail, unlike you.) A quick glance to the statue and again running and sliding beneath a flipped patrol car. Despite this chaos Kira had calmness in her heart, steady, unwavering she could control time's perception if pleased. It is not yet time to unleash that curse-no one knows of it and when it is known it will be too late. The boy clung to Kira like a child to their mother, and it took a bit of effort to pry him from her.

"Damon, look at me!"

Kira gently touches his shoulders and has him look at her face. Quickly she removed her helmet and placed it on his head.

"We're going to play soldier alright?"

The boy shook, nearly vibrating because of the situation. He is hardly responsive; the terrorist factions come closer-had she been alone taking care of them would have been no feat. (Every time I help a damn human-!) She pears over the car. Kira thought for a moment tore the sleeve of her left arm, then wrapped it around the boy's eyes.

"Hey I want you to hold onto me as tight as you can okay?"

A sweet voice, the voice he knew as the butler. He responded after hearing it, clinging to Kira like an ape. This would be no easy task, to protect the boy, pull him to safety AND avoid injuring this body. How annoying, protecting a human-he has nothing to do with the President! What she said could have been a lie, a way to force Kira's rational thought to include her mental and emotional stability; stupid bitch. To her left is a riot shield, quite conveniently it is large enough to cover the boy. Breaking from cover the first priority is getting rid of Damon. A round grazed her head, knocking her off balance, but not before she made it beyond the gate and to the police line. Kira twisted her body around Damon, crashed into a car and bounced off onto the ground. A snap and Kira feels all air escape her lungs and in the instant forgets to breathe inward. Finally the memory returns and as does the feeling of pressure on her chest.

"Da-mon-you can-let-go."

An officer takes him, allowing Kira to roll and gain her footing. The First Husband came, he broke from the barriers and swept his son off his feet as the daughter ran closely behind. Kira's body stumbled and slugged against the patrol car then again fell to her knees, but became motionless.

"The system...must reboot..."

The right hand moves brushing over her left eye then grasping it as the crimson streamed down. She has held back too much and not unleashed a sufficient amount of her strength. (Annoying.) Her eye gleamed as its cloak is removed and cast aside. (All of these damn humans cause so much trouble.) In her palms is the broken knife-still fresh and wet from snow that taps her face and head. It gathers...absorbing the red that is and is not hers. How nostalgic-the air, this storm, these people, all of it is a replay. Kira finally stood, after collecting her distant thoughts and now, the devil inside is out, prepared to do what is necessary. She gave a light smile-calm, composed, just relaxed even when walking toward the fight. An officer tries to stop her, but he is easily thrown into another car. This demon is one of her word and her word binds her to a task and the task now is to leave none alive. This is the difference between the 'Guardian Angel' and the 'Reaper': one had a conscious the other has a clear one. (Its better to be hurt than to hurt others.) Kira repeats those sage words, arming herself against these corpses. To think she was nearly domesticated, civilized by being out of battle this long. Not that it mattered, no matter where she goes there will always be battle, always be death and chaos-its the fate she accepted. 

******Chapter 13-Empty heart**

'As history repeats itself, we come to fear that no matter how much time passes we may never be safe.'

The news channels spat out lies and theories, foolish rambles of ignorance. This country is safe, its borders, its resources, but its those who swear to protect that safety that are the enemy. She knows this better than anyone, she is one of those the 'enemy of my enemy'.

'A police officer saved the President's son-'

'...brutally executed the terrorists...'

'The President has made an address that regardless of the danger to her life she will not allow this act of aggression change the plans to invade India-'

Amy had shut the TV off, knowing that no one wanted it even as background. Surprise was an overly exaggerated 'understatement' when Kira stumbled through her door. Seen it, heard it, read it, but did not fully believe it until now-nearly an exact repeat of the events of five years ago. Her clothes were saturated, dripping with the amount of blood that could no longer be contained. She had been in New York not three hours ago then fell here in the doorway. Kira lied in the bedroom asleep-during the aid she had not yelled out or flinched, but all her tiredness now is obvious. It seems only yesterday they met for the first time under the same circumstances, it feel like a never ending dream. Kira had been shot in the leg and side, a bullet grazed her neck and shrapnel in her arm-she claimed they were flesh wounds. Amy knew better, Kira isn't the type to admit the gravity of anything dealing with herself. In a sense the reporter, once-nurse, felt happiness because Kira had come to her, regardless if she was a nurse or not.

"Its ironic..." She mumbled before passing out, "How history repeats itself..." Kira gripped her face the clenched it over that eye. "I didn't think it was possible..." Amy leaned over, she placed a cool rag over Kira's head and smiled, "People change too, sometimes into different people, sometimes back into the old ones." Kira woke two days later, after heavy medication mainly so she would not move. Of course there was no need of it, the body healed itself nearly completely in those two days-drugs were of no real need.

"Thank you, I will transfer sufficient funds to your account for the trouble-"

Amy stood in the kitchen no long moving or speaking. Kira could not understand-had she suddenly gotten ill; was she in shock? A nurse, no her in specific there was no reason. Amy began to cry-upset over what?

"Stupid-!"

Kira titled her head quizzically, she then walked closer and stopped at the table. Amy's apartment is small, but its enough for a single person to have a lot of space and for two to have enough space. That being said, there is more than an adequate amount of space for quite of number of things to be thrown and not be heard. Kira prepared for it, for Amy to become angry-she understood the woman's frustration, but cannot grasp the concept of feeling as she does. Really its rather sad for a demon, it means they are all alone, and by Amy's knowledge, Kira is the only one.

"You-! You don't have to pay me to help-Dumb-ass!"

How irrational, why is she acting this way? There was no start, no logical purpose for this yelling-it was annoying. Fear could be a reason, Amy knows what has been done and even knew that person before the beginning. It does not seem she is expressing fear, rather anger and simply that. The demon sighs walking closer; unconsciously she recognized that when a human is frustrated they will hit to make an attempt to have themselves feel better. Kira's body moved on its own, for a reason it knew, no, she 'wanted' to make Amy feel better-she rammed into Kira knocking the both of them over and onto the floor. The demon is in utter surprise-this is not expected in the least. Amy presses her head against Kira's chest and soaks the shirt with tears.

"You're so stupid!"

Wide-eyed, and in shock Kira had not the slight idea of what to do. This went beyond her knowledge, her rationality-there is only a fragment if that, so perhaps Amy's affection is wrongly placed. For a while the two lied on the floor without moving, then Kira moved her arms and wrapped them around Amy who continued to press her head against Kira's chest. What is this feeling? A tightness in her chest that has never been felt before-not a gun shot or a fever, it felt unnatural, but what does it matter now, its likely gas. (Ah...I understand...) She moved a hand to Amy's head and caressed it, finally grasping the concept of the human emotion she expressed-love. Before Kira would have laughed at such an emotion, a chemical within the brain, at anyone, but Amy, yet now she can grasp it. Maybe its because she hit her head, hell its probably because she over-ridded the task. Protect the President: that is her job, not running off to save some brat who happens to be related. Why would she over-ride her priorities for some insignificant human? If it was Amy-no, why would she do that to begin with! Kira shuts her eyes, emptying her mind of annoying thoughts-what's done is done, the President is alive and retains sanity to continue her job and there are no complaints from above. To a point its appeasing, she got to kill her foes and save valuable tools.

"I'm sorry..."

"Just shut up, stupid demon!"

Kira proposed it herself, a day for girls to go out-this included young Julie who had been in exile in her room. The girl had been in shock, but did not see what Kira had done after she saved her brother therefore she only grew more attached to the butler. With the mother's permission the three of them went out, under disguise, and disappeared among the crowds of a nearby mall. Julie seemed especially happy-something of she had not been out shopping as an ordinary teenager since her mother became President. Understandable, the safety of the President's family is highly regarded and in this age many drop as low as to target families to prove a point. Kira could not remark against such acts because she has done the same-its like watching a wounded animal. Amy and Julie ran like children, searching the maps then running like a predator to its prey. Amy hooked her arm under Kira's and dragged her along. The cost would be of no concern-Kira had sufficient funds to live carefree for three life-times or a very eventful one. The butler is not the type to be honest with herself and Amy is the only one who can see that-shouldering everything herself so that no one else would; a very lonely and pained life-style, yet Kira did not wavier by it. A hard exterior concealed a frail heart, but if Kira admitted to that she would probably lose her sense of self. That's why Amy was over-joyed that Kira suggested this outing it signaled a change in that empty heart-she would take it as adaptation to circumstances and be oblivious to the truth; Kira's empty heart is starting to be filled.

"A nurse?"

"Yes, that's how I met Kira actually."

Julie gave an annoyed look, that the two adults were lying, or that it was hard to believe that.

"You don't believe her?" Kira questions lazily; no doubt she had heard a conversation of theirs one time or another. This child is cunning in sorts, she knows Kira is a 'Demon', but did not know what was meant by it. As the legends foretold she was birthed from Hell-a 'Hell' that only humans can create. The questions flooded after that: how old she is; are there others like her; what powers does she have-Kira appeased her with half-truths. Amy giggles under her breath at times and translate some jargon her 'little devil' says to an unaware child. The day went unexpectedly well and Amy felt a spark of that person the moment she saw Kira smile when returning Julie to the White House. The two drove home in silence, not because they did not know what to say, rather they wished for silence. The sun sat on the horizon, dropping further and further to the point where it seemed stuck in the sky; holding on with its last bit of strength to protect the day before the lunar night steals it away. 'Little devil' walked Amy to the door and for a time the two only stood there.

"Thank you for today...after New York its good that Julie can still smile."

"I didn't do it for Julie-"

"You had some other logical reason right?" Amy cut her off clenching her purse tightly. (Kira is an idiot!) Kira doesn't understand, but it is and is not her fault, she cannot help it. That's what makes it so frustrating; she doesn't 'grasp the concept'!

"Why don't you tell me anything?"

Kira had reached for Amy, but suddenly her hand was held back-she cannot touch this woman; what went through her mind is 'I am tainted'. Kira is evil; darkness, but Amy is light-pure goodness that cannot be stained by her black heart. (I wonder, sometimes, how things could have been different.) The woman chuckles, "Because I won't involve you." Its impossible for humans to understand her reasons because she will not tell them the whole truth-she cannot. Until the promised day comes she will be misunderstood and alone, but that is how she wants it. After all that has been done, all that will be done Kira will disappear from this world without a single friend to bring further heartache to. Such is the fate of a demon and her destiny as the bearer of dark.

"I did not do it for Julie."

Until the promised day it will only be natural to have even a shred of happiness before its over. Kira leaned over Amy, her shadow casts over the woman and nearly she dropped in intoxication as the two faces met together the moment the sun lost to the moon. 

******Chapter 14-Two Demons**

The prize is far, but the claiming of it is near. Rain, snow, wind, clear it didn't matter they would never miss. The specialty is with a bullet; far, near, mid-range it didn't matter they always kill. As there is the 'Reaper' then there is also the 'Angel of Death' both of them are effective in their own right, but only a test of skills would dictate the superior one. Give a child a pebble and watch them throw it, give a pebble to a master and watch them kill with it. Its about skill and nothing more-though at long-distance 'Reaper' would not stand a chance. It matters little because it will be a bit longer before its put to the test. The fellow demon did not care for carnage as much as the other-rather it was a pessimistic point-of-view that everything dies and its only a matter of when and where. Two different people, two different personalities, two different sides-a single purpose. Its only natural that these two would be enemies, they are nothing alike, but still serve the humans who created them. Those around her speak Indian, Arabic, Vietnamese; a whole mesh of different cultures, religions and tongues all gathered under a single banner. Their dream is to unite the world under this banner-giving freedom to all under the oppression of government, under the false sense of justice, peace, and safety. Let the unknowing world label them as terrorists, as an evil in this world that must be eliminated-let them try to extinguish the flames of righteousness. The hell-forged agent now over-sees thirty-two legions, over two divisions, of soldiers trained and readied for battle. Previously secretive and ambush-ive means have been used to strike fear into the hearts of governments-bring suspicion to the illusion of 'structure' and open the people's eyes to reality. It has been a difficult road, the roots of the shadowy system have woven for centuries and would not so easily unwind. No matter, patience is a valued virtue and the system is nearly undone as it is-on the verge of collapse. As an agent the demon will no doubt be granted leadership someday, or the leadership will be killed off and naturally it will fall down the chain of command. 'The Hand' will not change no matter who leads it so long as it is a true follower of the path. This woman is accepted here, is acknowledged here as a member of family though having a very good reason not to be. She enjoys that of this place, these people, there is no one greater than the other in regards to faith, race, or gender-those who experience more hardships are highly thought of for their survival until now. Nonetheless it does not change the outcome-the end justifies the means. She has received a new mission: 'in honor of the brothers and sisters who were brutally murdered, return onto them what they did to us.' There were units already on standby in the states therefore it was only a matter of organizing them and a few minor details. As she sat in her office and scanned the information a very peculiar figure came into view. A woman in the background, a masked and a white-haired demon. (An attempt to assassinate the President?) Certainly the woman is different in appearance, it had been quite some time since she was seen, but, as the photo zooms in on the broken section, its known that eye is unforgettable. It is unfathomable that she would not know they are coming, but that demon will take it as an annoyance-she hates unnecessary things and shows no mercy to weakness; lover of carnage and conflict-controlling the outcome no matter the odds. That someone, even a demon, can be so cold must mean its a personal preference-either way they share nearly no commonalities outside of rationality and calculation and anything outside those parameters is ill-regarded and unnecessary. She sends her brethren to remind those false leaders that true justice still exists.

Thirty soldiers, all slaughtered without a second thought and minimal loss of civilian life-they could not even manage to kidnap a single child. It is to be expect however, she is not angry only disappointed the 'One-eyed' held back. It is out of character that she left the President and pursed the boy-logic dictates to abandon the boy, regardless of relation to the target. The fact she over-rid the demonic instinct is either a feat, or weakness. Such an unusual action is not to be taken lightly however-it could easily be apart of her plan, whatever it is. Carefully she watches the video, gathering combat-technique; finding habits; weaknesses and faults in performance. People believe 'that' was horrifying then they will surely flee at the mere presence of 'One-eyed' if she ever goes on another rampage. Thirty people were killed because of her in a single day-thirty families would morn because of her evil. It would be informative if the two of them could have a formal conversation, but that is just a dream-the 'One-Eyed Reaper' is closed off to outside objection and influences. Commander is not disappointed however, in their conversation it came across that he expected the mission to fail, though there was a small hope it wouldn't. Its doubtful he considered converting 'one-eyed' because a person like that feels no things such as 'loyalty'. She is not self-centered, but rather has a single priority that remains obscured to outsiders. The woman understands this, she understands the ideology the demon has, yet not how its gone about. That person cannot care about others anymore-the both of them lost that attachment long ago. None of those trivial matters make a difference-its about who is stronger, who is faster, and who reaches the other's heart first. 

******Chapter 15-The other side** **  
**

Kira refused to speak of New York. She would not discuss her actions; the choice made. Payment would never be done for her saving of Damon, but after putting her family through that Madam could not help question her own choices. Kira was right, she is a conceited woman, yet so be it-its better to die believing in something then nothing at all. Madam wondered how someone could live like that-demon or human. Everyone has 'something' they treasure. The butler continued her 'butler-ing' with no change in habits, but her overall presence actually lessened.

"What did you mean by that?" The ice was broken, but Kira's dark glance chilled part of it over. "By what?" "You said if there were more people like me, then "we would have turned out differently"; are there more than one of you-demons?" Kira gave a blank expression while setting down the tea pot. For a bit her eyes were averted, mindlessly staring at the tea set on the cart.

"There were a hundred of us once-only two exist today." She finally spoke, grinding her teeth.

"What happened? Was there a fight-" Kira chuckled, "A massacre." The butler proceeded to remove her tailcoat, then removed half her shirt to reveal the tattoos. These were a testament to her sins, a reminder of the past.

"One-hundred and eight demons died by my hands. What I meant by that was if there were more humans who value family over duty then there would be one-hundred and eight souls would still be alive."

Kira smirked patting the covered arm. Yet those people are dead; cause and effect is all there is; a sequence of events and nothing more. She will not be affected by their end nor that she caused it, rather there was much to be grateful for because of their deaths. Not that it mattered to anyone aside from Kira because she is the only one to bear the weight of that decision. It was a test, in her 'Hell' it was the final test to determine which would break. Back then it was a silly explanation to separate fools from ferocious and it ended with only two survivors-one that had not taken part and the other the was apart. Madam President is no longer surprised; numb to the nature of demons. Regardless of the sinister actions Kira has taken she has never shaken in the belief in herself. She has a brimming confidence that there is no such thing as defeat, as failing. Thrusted, born into a world of violence and death its no wonder carnage is her milk and cruelty her butter. Despite that, there is a glimmer of humanity in that little black heart-room enough for a single at least.

"Do you regret it? Those people were yours friends and family-"

"I had no relation to those Dolls-my family and friends died long before they did." As she redressed more wise men words were said, "Do not pity them because they were the fortunate ones." Kira touches her chest and smiles slightly, "They no longer feel hatred, pain, sorrow-they were released from this cruel reality." "And you gave them salvation, is that it?" Madam hissed while sipping her tea-arrogant as ever; whose the conceited one now?! Kira disagreed strongly, then her tone lowered to a mumble that was barely understood, "I am the God of Death-don't confuse me with the other side." Madam became silent, Kira worded it as though her fellow demon were complete opposites; two sides of the same coin; light and dark. The butler looked to her watch then headed to the door.

"I will return later."

She opened the door and took a single step before halting in the doorway, "Pray to your God that you never meet my other self-you will surely regret it."

The bike slowed to make its final turn into the parking loft. Once lifted into the tower Kira headed to the main building-third period would just about be finished and from what the routine is Julie would walk this way to her next block of instruction. Nearly a thousand students attended this private school; company presidents, Congressmen; officers, all their children attended this prestigious school not to dis-include the Cabinet, VP and President's own. They were not her problem, but the one who enjoyed making a ruckus at the dinner table is. Julie noticed Kira, but did not smile as she usually did-likely do to the three girls trailing close behind. She walked past Kira without acknowledging her, unwise regardless the reason-Kira grabbed the handle of the backpack and held Julie in place with a slight tug.

"I don't like being ignored-"

Julie spun around and slapped Kira straight in the face. Slightly caught off guard, Kira puts on a smile and brings Julie closer, "Hitting a demon...the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." The three girls pursue Julie quickly when she was released and sent running down the hallway. (What an annoying human.) Further irritated, Kira walked the same direction and as the halls cleared she caught the daughter's presence and crept close to a wall and observes the captivity.

"Who was that your girlfriend?"

The two henchmen giggle as Julie's belongings are scattered across the floor. Kira sighed, this kid has no spine to stand up to anyone, but her own mother. What an annoying circumstance-either she would be bullied or saved; she won't save herself. Kira moved away from the wall-the weak are killed by the strong; a loud scream froze the butler in her place. (Shut up.) Her eye cringes-its pulses; what's inside desperate to break free from the depths of darkness. (Shut up!)

"What is a spoiled brat like you going to do!?"

She rose her hand; it was taken, used as a means to throw her entire body to the ground. In the instant she hit the ground the girl is pulled up again and held to meet that darkest of eyes. Fear filled her without a moments pause at the sight of this inhuman thing before her-the presence was crushing and is something of sinister intent that held a vision of the Grim Reaper. She snapped back to reality, now having the realization how unreal her experience had been. Kira lifted her off the ground, shutting the eye and pushing away until the person was levitating it seemed. (SHE'S GONNA KILL ME!) This woman bears her teeth, her arm shakes and the other hesitantly my reaches for the teenager's face-"KIRA STOP!" Julie leaped, wrapping her arms around the demon. Her heart skipped a beat then her senses returned and the teenager is dropped-sent running with her pathetic duo close behind. Julie burrowed her head into Kira's back crying her eyes out, nearly vibrating from fear. (Damn you...) Her chest felt tight when turning around, her hands halted when reaching for Julie. (Why can't you just stay asleep?) She wrapped them around the tiny body, enveloping the girl in her broad body.

"I'm-sorry-!"

"Enough!" Kira snapped, then quickly softened her tone, "Just be quiet and don't move-I wont let anyone see you."

Kira felt an unwelcome-d uneasiness toward the action she took. It is irrational and it was something on impulse-its starting to break free of its imprisonment. Her entire body cringed, (Please...just for a bit longer, stay asleep.) 

******Chapter 16-Rehabilitation** **  
**

When I felt the pain it lasted, but a moment and yet it was the longest moment. Time slowed as my body fell under its shadow and I felt ever bone, every crack and puncture the right side of my body felt. Words could not even begin, no one unless they felt this pain could understand the gravity of my words and what I suffered. It was utter hell. My body healed; the bones that were broken connected new parts to the old and formed such a bond that if you undressed me to bone all that would be seen is a clean white line. At first I hated it-accelerated healing is very painful; at points, as my skin stitched itself together, I even wished to relive the pain from my original wounds rather than this. They won't tell me anything, not about her, not about my family, nothing. Why save me just to keep me prisoner? Why keep me in the dark if I know nothing and can do the same? Why am I even here? This is no hospital, it seems like something out of a movie-a hidden facility or something like that. I'm trying not to let my imagination run wild because it may be nothing and I'd freak out at my own shadow, so to speak.  
I don't know how long I've been here, there are no windows and since I'm confined to a bed the only way I can count is when the lights go out and by counting how long until the next shift of staff appear. Really its just to keep my mind occupied, its not like its horrible; the doctors and nurses tell me what they can and soon I'm moved to a less prison-like room where there are still no windows, but tv, clock and a few board games I destroy the staff at. It seems like I'm the only person here or ate set one of few because I see the same people and quite often. Its been two months since New York and the news are still about it-bodies are still being found in the ruins and this disaster is said to rival 9/11. They let me watch the news, but won't tell me anything about my family or her; do they even know if I'm alive? How could they, after what happened its easy to think my body is still under the rumble or just a pile of ash. At least her, tell me she is alright, that she is alive-I watch these videos and I see her fighting, struggling to stay alive; to protect people and yet the videos always go black.  
Tried to stand up today, I managed three steps with crutches and a half step without before the doctors caught me keeling over. Everyday my legs grow stronger, one by one I walk further and further-today I managed twenty-one steps without crutches and fourteen push-ups. The doctors say I shouldn't push myself, but I can't just sit here and wait to get better (no matter how much it hurts to move). For the first time I looked at my own reflection; even with the accelerated healing I'm told I will always have these scars-nearly all the bones on my right side have become metallic, I'm practically a real-life 'Terminator'; half of one at least. Five months have passed since New York and to everyone's surprise I can walk entirely on my own, even run for a short period and to my surprise I can lift twice my weight-must have been those implants. I heard the word 'Argument' and suddenly I felt like a damn Guinea Pig. I was let out into a court yard yesterday and for the first time in five months I felt the sun on my skin. Its warmth was everything I remembered and since its summer the sun was out for a long time. Unfortunately the entire area was surrounded by walls so I could not tell where we were and they wouldn't let me out at night, probably afraid I could read stars, and I can. I'm allowed to run around the facility and most areas they don't care I go into-hell they even explained some of their work. From what I got this is a secret medical facility used to conduct engineering experiments in efforts to save otherwise fatality injured people. I'm the first successful patient to survive, not so much the surgery, but the injury and adapting to the 'Argument'. Yes, I am somewhat offended because I'm a lab rat without permission and being held here while my friends and family probably think I'm dead. Knowing her, if she isn't gone, she would tear through the doors here at any moment looking for me. There is no room to complain, no room for me to step over the boundary of their efforts to save my life, but still I wonder where the elevator at the Director's office leads to. What is below my feet that I cannot know, when I've been told everything else? A lot of the staff say I have a knack for Medical Engineering and that when I'm discharged I should consider getting my degree and returning. Not too long after a nurse suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into a broom closest, warning me to keep quiet. We heard heavy boots rush past the door and from what I saw through the grid they were armed to the teeth. Neither of us spoke or moved for a long time, then the nurse, a tall slender woman with bright blonde hair tied up in a bun, opened the door and let us out.

"Sorry about that; you wouldn't want to run into them right now." She sighed. "Why, what's going on? I thought this was a research facility not an armed camp."

The nurse accompanied me back to my windowless room and sat with me to explain what she knew. A few floors below there is another section that holds a patient that arrived practically dead. It seems that patient either just woke up, or has gone completely insane-the guards are a safety measure to protect the patient and the staff. I guessed this nurse is from the lower section because there isn't a single person here who would tell me that; also I had not seen her before. Honestly I wanted to know more, maybe a small part of me wanted to think the patient is her, yet I also don't want to think that. Miss. Richardson (the nurse's name that she told me) says that person was hurt worse than me, and I can't help, but be glad-I feel horrible for admitting this, but I'm relieved it isn't me down there.  
Last night I thought I heard an alarm and maybe from the section below-after that I started asking more questions again and refused to do anything unless I got an honest answer from whoever is in charge. That demand had been answered far quicker than I imagined and before me stood the Director, a Mister Edward I think who took me up to the gardens of the courtyard and sat down. For an irritably long amount of time he didn't say anything and when he finally did I about called him out as a lier.

"Your family was killed...by the same people who killed your sister."

I gave a very faint smile-he's lying. She isn't dead; my dad, my little sister or my grandpa; lier. He showed me a recording-they were killed in a car crash three months ago. Then she-no, she wasn't there, she was in New York, she went down, but my sister, there is no way! The air felt thin, my entire body felt heavy and I wouldn't, I 'couldn't' breathe. My chest hurts-I can't breathe! grabbed me before I feel over; my sight loses clarity and all I see before the black spots cover everything are white shades coming toward me. Maybe it was night when I finally woke up, but regardless of what time I was in no mood to get up. I guess I had my explication and as my eyes turned red and puffy I cried harder than I ever have. What do I do now? No family, no friends, no where to return to-I now ask for death. Miss. Richardson started to visit me more, but I hardly talk anymore; hardly eat or sleep-what's the point? The meaning of my life has been slaughtered and for what? What did we do to them!? Why was my family killed; why did they have to suffer and why am I the only one left alive!? Mrs. Richardson finally stopped coming to visit, I heard she resigned and after awhile the noises from under my floor stopped suddenly.

"They are lying to you."

My heart sank in my chest because before me, the face I had engraved in my mind, the leader of 'The Hand' the bastard who killed her! The moment I saw his face I broke from my bed-grabbed a pair of scissors and brought them to his neck; I'll kill him! He looked at me with steady eyes, they held no fear, no passion, only pity. (Don't you look at me with those eyes!)

"You had no right-!"

I grind my teeth as every bit of my body shook, "My family-YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO TAKE THEM FROM ME!" I cut a bit of his neck and still he did not move. (Why me?) I cried again-I don't think I can do it, I can't kill another person its just-! I let go of it shirt and dropped the scissors; listening to their metallic bounce reminded me of how meaningless everything is now. Even if I kill him it won't bring them back, it won't make it easier!

"You look just like her."

He had jeans on and a shirt though both looked scruffy and tattered, yet he ha a clean savage and looked rather young for someone considered a leader of a terrorist organization. There is no accent in his voice, he spoke perfect, native English, but based on the news reports he's from India. As my conscious began to clear up I began to wonder: why is he here? Has he come to kill me? How did he get here?

"Please sit down."

There were no weapons I could see, but he probably could hid them where no one would think to look. As asked I sat back in my bed and while I walked the murderer drew a chair from beside the door and sat in front of me. Immediately he began an oddly casual conversation, but with a soft apology-I don't believe him, but he said he did not want to kill her. Rather, he did everything to incapacitate her, but she kept pushing, kept getting up all to protect the two they had taken. I listened as well as I could (without being biased) to his story. Eon told me everything, the origin of 'The Hand' his dream, his mission, their rules and it sounded more that 'they' were the good guys, but still in my heart I cannot forgive what he has done.

"I killed her, that fact will never change, but believe me...your family-we were not the ones who murdered them. That is why I have come here, a final request: to protect you from this false government."

The alarms sounded loud and clear. A horrible horn that ran in and out signaling for the guards to secure the facility.

"My time has run out."

He stood casually, pulling the chair and propping it against a wall somehow. Where will he go, there is only one exit? I had not notice before, but he had a bag with him and he passed it to me-curiously and quickly I opened it to find clothes and a gun inside. Again Eon spoke, "No matter your choice I will protect you and I will keep that promise. You can stay here believe what you want, or you can come with me and help me create a world of true peace and even then when its all over, if you still hate me, I will give my life to you."

It felt an eternity; who am I to believe? My own government who keeps me here or the man who killed her? Take the word of the American Government or that of a terrorist? I made my choice and followed him. Already Eon knew his way around, like he walked this place a thousand times over. A couple times we hid in pre-selected spots and avoided the guard completely. We reached the Director's office and with ease Eon opened the elevator door with the data pad on his arm. Rather than down (as I thought we would go) it went up and thankfully there wasn't any of the horrible elevator music, but the quiet between us is just as bad. Abruptly it halted and the emergency lights turned on. By his actions I can tell he expected this; opening the service door and climbing up, then helping me out-I also realized how afraid of heights I am. We climbed a ladder and crawled in a utility shaft that lead into a security room. Upon watching the screens the image of a single person caught my eye and his.

"We need to go, now!"

I don't know why Eon wanted to avoid that person, it was just one person-he took my hand and pulled me close to him. Around the second corner my shirt is grabbed and I'm thrown against the wall I came from. Eon lifted his foot and kicked, but whoever grabbed me had met the same and the two canceled each other out. Eon stepped back I saw a fire-extinguisher to my left and grabbed it, swinging it to meet a darkly-greyed arm-it seemed that they already knew I was going to attack and where to protect! The extinguisher formed to the arm and popped spreading all the foam to the attacker. Again I'm grabbed, but by Eon and taken through the smoke. From the smoke I saw the person with oddly-colored hair, but the face I could not see-only that eye, that horrible black and yellow eye that screamed evil; demonic even. The figure ran after us, but I was too afraid too look back to see how close. Finally another ladder, I am first as Eon fires his gun at that person I climbed as fast as I could.

"He who fights monsters should see to it that he does not become one. For when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes back."

I heard them say, but could not tell if it is he or she. Eon stopped firing and I was afraid he had been killed yet he hadn't and I felt a sense of happiness that he hadn't been. Again I felt the sun when we broke from the manhole cover-so free, to not be a prisoner, to not be lied to.

"Who was that!?" My lack of breathe caught up to me. "That..." He said when locking the cover to the shaft, "Was the one who murdered your family." 

******Chapter 17-Hand of Death** **  
**

The last of the Cherry Blossoms fell last week, though a few years ago they would have done so weeks earlier. The weather warmed up and the days grew longer-with the change it was decided to run in the mornings rather at sunset. Athena and Hades complained a lot, always dragging around in the morning (or their master just got faster than them and they're sore losers). Amy comes to the house often; though her stay in DC was to be a limited time, she moved here having acquired full time employment at the White House. Easter Sunday is nearing and the traditional 'White House Egg Roll' has been a topic of decision as to whether it will go on this year or not; understandable, but not her problem. That day she was ordered to have off-the word 'ordered' leaning more to the meaning of a threat. Regardless she did not care and rather agreed to breakfast with Amy before she went to work. Unfortunately the date was placed under something called a 'rain-check' and the woman was left to wonder the streets of DC on her own. (I'm not wrong.) Everyday she reminds herself of that one truth, the only truth left in this corrupted world.  
Her path lead her to the Washington Monument to a perfect spot where she is able to see the egg roll across the White House lawn. (Its nothing personnel.) the assassin sat on a stone wall and watched the people from afar. How curious humans are-that they can be kind and caring and yet...they are more terrifying than even a demon. By now people have no doubt reported a suspicious character wearing a black and white mask with a broken section over the left eye. Well...that is if they had gotten close enough. Once this task ended her attire would change from that black cloak to something of more exercise and easy she would slip into the crowd and disappear. She looked up toward the top of the monument then casually, knowing she would draw that person's attention; quickly she spun around have a fond 'fuck-you' jester and step around to turn and walk straight again. Of course a few guards will have to die, but no civilians-not if it could be helped. As expected there are tourists at the front gates, but not for long. The mask of the assassin is not well known, but after today it will be-all will know and fear the 'One-Eyed Reaper'. A few mocked her mask and stared at her with disguised and annoyance. For a time she stood completely still watching the movements of her task. Finally something entertaining. Secret Service have doubled at every entrance and there is a heavily armed guard ever thirty feet around the grounds. Snipers are positioned on the roof, but they will be of no use-the other, more kinder, demon will put them to bed. With quickness she leaped, nearly clearing the entire fence in one leap-still her hand made good to avoid being stabbed by the fence. There is a single straight run for ten meters before she would need to turn right for two to avoid a possible shot from the snipers; three meters forward to miss the glance of a guard and another fifteen at forty-five degrees to slip into the crowd. The crowd from the gate began to yell giving Secret Service twenty-one seconds to find her if she had not already made it across the yard to the same side as the target. Her model of M9 has decent accuracy, but the trick would be to dispose of it in the hands of a guard.

(One hour earlier)

Madam President fidgeted with Julie's dress-not that it needed much adjustment; Kira had picked out the perfect union of Julie's dark-colored preference with the Spring-flowery setting. Lately Madam noticed Kira's lightened persona, yet it felt forced in a way. That woman is always hiding something and since New York it seems to revolve around the fact she knew Destiny Knight. (I'll ignore it just for today.) Adam came from behind and kissed her-the two hardly spend time together and after that close call it seemed to have gotten worse. Mirandia looked a bit down-maybe because Kira wasn't here; maybe she regretted forcing her to take the day off. She won't admit it though, his wife if the type to hold back her personal opinion. The Egg Roll is filled with laughter and happiness and for a time they all forgot the reality; the hand of death is always at their throats. Adam began talking with a few parents as Damon began to play tag with a couple boys his age. Off the corner of his eye he saw a figure dash to his right, then as he looked around a single person stood out among the crowd. A person wearing a black mask and is clothed in the same tint stairs at him. At this distance he can feel those eyes upon him; the visible one that has a sinister yellow gleaming from that pit. Adam did not move-he knew that it would make no difference even if he had. This person has come to kill him. Beyond the crowd the two are in their own separate world, maybe in this dimension they could have heard each other, but only jesters were given. The assassin showed her gun, Adam glanced at it then at the mask the assassin wore. They both nodded recognizing there is only one end to this. Secret Service quickly began to gather around the President and conjure everywhere else to locate the intruder-really an assassin, but they would know that in a moment.

(Inside the Washington Monument)

The orders were to assassinate the President's husband.

Name: Adam G. Jackson and Mirandia Jackson  
Age: 45; 42  
Occupation: Civil-Rights Lawyer; President  
Description: Military-cut brown hair; brown eyes; 6 foot 4 inches; 182 pounds. 5 foot 7 inches; 143 pounds; brown eyes; long brown hair.

Having arrived three days before, it was made important to know the location and its surrounding areas. The nest is determined on site, as well as the means of extraction. Eon noted that if One-eyed appeared that she would be a second priority-though vengeance is sworn against that bastard she knows what matters. The idea is to cause distress in the President's personal life if she escaped, once that occurs it would only be a matter of time before the true leaders show themselves and publicly take power. That is what is planned to happen; blood will be shed, walls will fall, but its all for the sake of peace-to free the people. The weather is humid here, but less than India-still she ran in the mornings rather than night. Many have the same thoughts and some push further than that and compete-there is even one woman who has been out-running her two dogs. Sneaking into the stone pencil was no real feat, especially with most people home for Easter Sunday. The rifle she brought had an accuracy range of nearly a mile; 50 caliber hollow-point rounds; four sight modes for the scope-the pride and joy of 'The Hand'. She found a cozy spot where a few bricks were loose from a previous earthquake and managed to create a comfortable sniping box. Though the event did not begin for another three hours she thought it best to run the patrol routes through her head again. Heavy grey clouds started to roll in and there was said to be a chance of rain. Eon said One-eyed would be here, that she is thought to be protecting the President and her family-knowing her its just the President. After a time she began to notice fewer and fewer people were coming near the monument and eventually looked to the ground to see the cause. Her eyes widened in disbelief-her enemy sat just under her nose! Instantly the rifle aimed downward and on Que. One-eyed stood and began to walk toward the White House. (What the hell are you doing here!?) The pad of her finger caressed the trigger-one bullet and she would have her revenge, her justice! That one bullet would be heard and her mission would flee-through the scope her prey turned around and the expression was easily seen through that one eye-the Reaper flipped-off the shooter and continued with no worry-the rifle has lowered and the pad removed from the trigger. The mission came first-save the world then kill the adversary.

"Its better to be hurt than to hurt others." A human once told her that and for a long time those words had little meaning; no she didn't know their meaning. Right now those words held true to her way of life-even now as the barrel is aimed at an bystander it whispers in mind that this is not wrong. One cannot choose both, therefore a choice was made and to this day there has not been a single glance back. No matter who is sacrificed, no matter how many, no matter any of it, this path will be walked alone until the end. The trigger is squeezed, a bullet flies, driving into Adam Jackson's skull. The gun is tossed instantly as the crowds drop and scatter as insects. The sniper searched for the next target-this was not expected. One-Eyed dove beyond line of sight; the sniper found the President, huddled with her son and daughter.

"Its nothing personal."

The hollow-point fired, Kira jumped between the two swinging her arms out and shielding the entire family. Her sleeve is scattered in an instant. It blew threw her arm with the force of another grenade, but the only thing felt was the recoil and the only injury was her shattering arm as it flew off with bits of metal and wire left dangling. 

******Chapter 18-Worse than Human** **  
**

Their butler sat on the ground hurdling over her missing limb. Most of the people had vanished, fleeing for their lives or had been crushed under those who did flee. Secret Service surrounded the grounds and at this point the sniper was already long gone. Madam glances at the metal arm then back to its originator.

"Kira...?"

She did not move. A moment she thought Kira was dead, but gradually as the rain drenched them Mirandia could see the rise and fall of Kira's back. When did she come? Why is she here? What just happened? All of this was a blur and there was no time to think after the pooping sound began, she grabbed her children and held on, only to have a ominous shadow cast over them. Julie held onto her mother-Damon did not, he extended his tiny hands to Kira and attempted to tug on her shirt.

"Don't touch me." The demon hissed with a sharp loss of breath when gripping her shoulder. Its an internal battle now, will over instinct that should never have become a battle. Kira staggered when standing...she did not look at them as she left. No one can see what comes next; they could never know. Kira's missing limb is concealed under a tattered jacket staying as such until the safety of her house was reached. All the doors and windows are locked and blacked-out; the dogs were kept away; and Kira barricaded herself in the master bedroom-the furniture (consisting of a nightstand, a bed, and a lone dresser) is pushed to against the door and windows. They would not find her, they would not hear her-slowly Kira slid to the ground and listened to the rhythm in this body's chest. A low chuckle gradually turned to a horrific laughter and Kira began a struggle of suppressing the insanity.

"What's-one-thous-sand-m-minus-seven!?"

A voice echoes from that room. In mind everything is being torn apart-hears explosions, the sound of her bones snapping, of the blade cutting slowly into her flesh! A sweat aroma of honey then gun powder and smoke; there is black and red and white all around-sound screams over each other, she jerks holding the pain in her chest before it falls out. A sinister laughter and banging against the wall-scratching the same message, the same scene the same; same; same!

"You promised-!" Kira hits her head against the floor, "NO WAY! NO WAY! NO WAY! I WON'T DO IT-! Its your fault-its all my fault..." Tears turned to rage as quickly as it turned to violence. That nose screeches in her ears, that same voice-! She could not save them; their deaths matter little-her mind is on the verge of collapse-to think its woken to this extent and by will alone is it still kept in cage; the pain cannot be fathomed.

"What's-one-thousand minus-s-seven?"

Over and over and over AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER DRAGON RIPPED HER APART! This body and her mind never forgot it-those cuffs around her ankles , the chains around her hands all mended to a chair while Kira succumb to tourtière.

"I'm sorry..."

Kira lies on the floor, staring at a her bloodied hand demanding it to move. She was face down in that crimson snow feeling the cold on the flesh become warm then the core slowly turned to ice. They walked away, going toward the other two who had watched that body be killed. (W-wa-it!) The hand lifted some then dropped again. Sight blurred and darkness soon shut out all light sending her to an abyss of nothingness. (I have to get up.) Kira curled a sinister smile when she leaped up and ran a fist through the wall.

"Now...its 'my' turn."

The hand bled, but did not hurt-why would it after all 'that'? Before her the room was a cage and it would be broken from this day!

"I'm nobody." Kira said having no idea what came after.

"You say you are no one-why don't I give you a name? Little killer?"

She laughs aloud, "I've grown to like that name, my little 'Dragon'. Kira as in dark; killer; murderer; such a fitting name."

(Five days later)

She wanted to give Kira space, but now it could not longer be avoided. The door was locked them unlocked by the key left to her. No call, no message, nothing in nearly a week. Everyone at work became worried especially after the 'One-eyed Reaper' personally murdered the President's Husband on White House grounds. No where is safe. After the fight she had seen Kira run and when she called out those words never reached. Quietly the pieces of the arm were collected and hidden from everyone-the President ordered for Amy to use every mean to conceal this fact: the White House's butler has a secret that must be secret. Athena and Hades ran up jumping and pushing at her legs-they were keeping her back. Amy put down her bag and proceeded around the house.

"Kira?" She called, "You home?"

There was a noise coming from the master bedroom-the dogs came from behind and placed themselves between Amy and the door and bear-ed their fangs. Protecting their master.

"Out of my way!"

She pushed them from her way and grabbed the doorknob-both bite her pants and pull.

"GET AWAY!"

Kira's voice roars; the door snaps open to a ransacked room. (What is this!?) Scratches; broken messages; pools of blood everywhere; the furniture all had been broken and thrown across the floor! Against the far wall is a ravaged creature. Amy ran, upon seeing the blood on her head and dripping from her mouth. The dogs came again and snapped their jaws around a wrist and leg.

"What's one thousand minus seven?"

Kira, no, 'it' stood chuckling at 'Dragon' who stood before her. She has just broken from those chains and now a enjoyed a very shocked expression. Her head goes back and she inhales and exhales deeply.

"That's right-you said there is no God, how about the Devil?"

She looks to Amy with a malevolent expression. Her hand extends out touching the wall behind beside then digging her nails into the dry-wall she steps let go and ran at the insane, dropping his jaws onto its leg. Kira spun around and kicked the dog away.

"You think after everything something like 'that' would hurt?"

These two...were protecting 'Amy' from 'her'! She lunges at Amy, just in time the attack was dodged, only to end up on the floor and to witness a fist break through the wall. Tears dropped on the ground as inner thoughts are made loud.

"I'm not wrong...This world is wrong!"

A chilling stare at Amy left her with an image of a black-eyed demon extending its claws at her. Kira yanked her fist from the wall and staggered back, "Get away...please, before it gets worse!" Kira took a knife from her back and shoved the tip into her leg.

"Amy-run-"

She dropped to her knees and rips the blade from her leg and into the floor board. Her arm flexes strongly-this is to restrain her movements before it attacks that precious person again. The Athena releases Amy and Hades runs to his mother's side as they form a barrier between the human and devil. She sprinted, kicking the dogs away and reaching past-her head ran into the wall past and the moment it crashed it lost conscious. Without a second thought Amy went to Kira's side to tend: she suffered malnutrition; numerous, but shallow stab wounds covered her body; her hand is in shambles and there is a gash above the scar down Kira's left eye. (You've been harming yourself...to keep your sanity?) Its been known for a long time at there is a side to Kira she kept hidden from everyone because the one before she disappeared and after are not exactly the same, meaning something added to her already damaged heart. The dogs kept a close eye on their master as she slept-neither having suffered any wounds, as if Kira, even in her loss of sense, still protected them from herself. Amy pondered over what Kira was saying, (Memories of that time?) She regretted it now, leaving back then-Kira had been a demon already, but whatever that was it was worse than a demon. She went to the bathroom to see if there was still anything to be salvaged-nothing, just an odd number of medication canisters; these are not conventional drugs either, very heavy-duty in fact for pain against terminal- "Grace..." She heard chuckles from the room. Kira twists on the makeshift bed. Her tears flow down as she clenches the sheets with the only hand remaining.

"Even if she hates me...I may lose myself, but I will...be her goal until that day..." She smiles lightly, "I'm begging you...keep your promise."

Amy caresses Kira's with a solum expression. She was in such pain, what exactly happened back then? The doorbell sounded-quickly she got up and went to the door, assured Athen and Hades would guard her. There in the rain stood Madam President-drenched and in grief.

"Miss. Richardson?"

No doubt she had been surprised to see Amy here, but more that Amy had answered the door.

"Where is she?"

"Not here-" "Don't lie to me!" She snapped pushing past the reporter and entering the house. Madam to called for Kira, searching the house. The main bedroom is found-Amy stood in the way now.

"Madam President please understand! Kira isn't in her right mind, the affect from being shot-!"

The door opened, revealing a weary Kira wearing a blanket over herself.

"You damn humans make-so-much...noise..."

She fell into Amy's arms. It seemed that Kira had regained control therefore she had been placed on the couch. Before Amy had shut the master bedroom door Madam saw a single bloody phrase-'He who fights with monsters should see to it that be himself does not become one. For when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you-Nietzsche.' Quietly the two sat in the kitchen while drinking tea.

"What is she?" Madam asks plainly. "Who knows." Was the response. Clearly someone with a robotic arm is questionable, but why would Kira has that if she is a demon? Unless she lied and fooled her into believing a lie, then how could she have done-Kira stood up, tripping as she tried to move. Giving a heavy sigh she remarks about having too many people in her more than spacious house.

"You are foolish, I do believe you were warned about coming here."

Right off Madam notices Kira had adjusted her hair over her eye and refused to reveal it until a large eye-patch was located. They are both lucky the dogs were here and that she had most of the rampage over with by the time they came. They would have been killed otherwise-quite brutality also. Finally Kira sat down, not having realized herself she only wore a sports-bra, but what did it matter? Now the President knows about her arm, not that it makes a difference in the end-the truth will die with her...as planned.

"You saved us...jumping in the way like that and your arm-"

"I merely did my job and think nothing of that thing- this body is not as my mind, but I am still worse than human."

She didn't say demon though and inside her room, just her appearance; scars on her body and what looks like a serial number on her chest. Now she had to ask, "What are you? You say your a demon, but-" Amy continued with her solum expression, "I am a demon, by what can you call a person who has mercilessly killed well over three-thousand people?" Kira chuckles, "What makes one a human anyway? What are your thoughts?"  
Compassion, humility, love, just feeling and living everyday; knowing pain and understanding that of others'. Suppose that makes one human-perhaps it is genetic, to look and act human, but what if someone was not? Long ago there was an abandoned child found after years of living with dogs. She behaved as a dog because she believed she was one dispute looking different and it took a time to have her gain social skills to match humans'.  
"I am not human because I am neither physically nor mentally so-believe what you want, but it matters not."  
"The same could be said the other way around." Amy said under her breath, "Even if you're a demon you can learn to be human."

Kira smiles gently, something that caught both off guard. That's an impossible dream. That will never happen, she cannot be human or even try because the moment she does, the moment Kira steps back 'that person' will kill everyone.

"That would be unwise for all of us-humans are far more frightening than demons." 

******Chapter 19-Revenge** **  
**

It was bright a sunny the afternoon Adam Jackson was laid to rest. As a prior-service member his funeral was held at Arlington where he would lie among his brethren breast to the one beside them and beside that person and so on unto the very first grave. Kira's arm was replaced somehow and by someone-now it had a darker than black color (Likely the experimental material Kira demanded some time ago). Now there is no need to hide-Kira wears the mourning black, but under her single-sleeved attire is carefully woven armor. Thirteen-shot salute per regulation; family members, close friends and none else attended (reporter-wise) the funeral. They were lucky, Kira thought, the Jackson family is large and there are many people to comfort the President's trio. There is no remorse, no regret at what has been done-this was a necessary act. The humans wept, so much that after this many would likely never do so again. Adam was a sailor-a Navy Seal rand at that moment when their eyes met he understood why; unlikely that he 'knew' why. Kira would give no pity to them, they are lucky after all. What can a human possibly grieve about when losing a single parent or lover; sibling or anything? That isn't suffering, that isn't pain its just a bruise, one cannot fall apart after tripping on a rock in the road. There are plenty who suffer more, but its not about how often you suffer just how much. If someone grows used to death they become numb to it, but if something worse than death I cures only once, it will be engraved in that person's mind forever. In Kira's black little heart there is no room for pity, neither for herself nor another-every human is capable of surpassing an obstacle and the death of a single person is no exception. They will move on at one point or another, what they think is 'pain' will fade and they will live life again; such a luxury some don't have. Of course there are a few favorable outcomes that may occur: Julie will become an empty shell or become quite a fight either in words or actions (action being more entertaining). Damon will likely not understand at first, but will come to understand, maybe he will even go into shock himself. As for the Madam, Kira wishes for a degree of surprise and leaves the outcome to being unknown. Amy of course did not come, rather her hands were full at ensuring Kira's arm is not discovered and that reporters leave the White House alone for the time being. The phone rang; Kira answered, moving away as instructed toward its caller.

"Too bad you weren't able to confront 'The Hand's' elite soldier."

Kira smirks, "It wasn't a complete waste of my time-I got to see a priceless expression." She cracked a finger, "I'm glad I acted on my instinct-otherwise this would have ended too quickly." "I thought you wanted it to end." The woman shrugs. True, but now things are becoming more interesting, "I think I've become patient in building up their trust, after all the end justifies the means yes? I look forward to seeing even more crushed expressions-humans each have their own you see..." The colonel felt a sinister presence crush him. (Impossible!) The shock from having her arm taken again must have triggered that 'thing' to come back! Edward stepped back, "I am perfectly sane dear colonel." He jumped at the casual response. "Do you not trust my abilities? Have no fear, there won't be another rampage." Kira giggles walking toward the ended funeral.

"I'm glad you're on our side."

"No one is truly allied to a 'side'; its human nature to betray each other-I expect no less from you and you would be wise to do the same."

As always he disappeared and as the masses dispersed, the children were taken to the car, while Madam remained; she stares at the grave. Kira walked closer, in her eyes she was as a shadow in the sunlight-a dark angel even. The light played tricks on her, she knew this, but there is a hope this was all a trick, just a horrid dream. Her butler stopped in the shadow of a tree and for a bit Madam could not see her.

"I don't care if you're human or Satan himself."

Tears began to hit the grass. Kira expresses something very satisfied-this is most pleasing, a very welcomed turn of events.

"I want you to find whoever is responsible for this and kill them."

Kira chuckles giving a light bow, "As you wish, my lady."

The chair flew across the room after her rage. That bitch ruined her mission and still survived that shot! At least its know-One-eyed isn't human after all and there will be no mercy in killing her (not that there would have been any before). Eon came in, dodging a vase that shattered against the wall. The poor woman has not been this angry since One-eyed had taken her first mission from her; nonetheless every one after that. She continues to throw things around, Eon does not interfere, seeing this is much more a safe measure than the alternative-the individual involved with that did not quite enjoy it. He has given her credit because her temper has improved expediently. Finally she drops down to the floor and calms, having used much of her energy there is no fuel for anger any longer. Six years and she is no closer to achieving revenge than when she first began that path. It may be a selfish desire, but not in the least has her dream been forgotten: to create a place where people can live in peace, where they can understand each other. The goal of the Order became hers the day Eon opened her eyes. Finally Eon sat beside her and against the wall, he reached his arm over and pulled her snug against himself. She has endured much because of those bastards and its only just that revenge is sought.

"I had her and yet she's alive!"

The best shot in all of the order and yet outdone by a damn swordsman! It was pure luck that her arm happened to be false, otherwise she would be dead! Why is all the luck in her favor; all fortune given to a murdering demon! Where is God now? Has he fallen so far to the Devil's grip that only darkness rules? Eon assures her the time will come and One-eyed will pay for what she's done.

"Come, walk with me."

He stood and offered his hand, "Grace." Her voice is called more sternly, therefore she did as told and followed behind her friend. How many years has it been-five, six maybe since Grave was freed from that prison? The old underground palace had been modified to accommodate troop training, a command center and a number of other functions befitting one of many 'Hand' headquarters. When she became a part of the Order they held a strong influence, but only as a gorilla force and now they are an organized government. It was thanks to Grace that this was made possible-her story, her strength, her leadership bound these sorrowed people's together and gave them a heightened sense of justice and peace. For a long time Grace was the only one who hadn't shadowed the truth before them. They looked to her as a friend and even mother while Eon was thought as a brother, father, and kind leader. Every single person has piled up their loses here, but they have used it as fuel to prevent that for another rather than seeking self-satisfaction, something Grace a struggle against. The thought had crossed her mind a few times-Eon is a handsome, bronze-skinned, gentlemen just a few years older than she. Perhaps when this is over, (most likely in another life) they could be more than friends. Both enter his office and conduct a casual conversation of battle tactics, weaponry and the plan for June. 

**Chapter 20-Dream of Starlight** **  
**

Twinkling lights woke her, the sun's rays that broke through the leaves disturbed her sleep. This is an unfamiliar room-at first, but then all that is unfamiliar is the amount and style of furniture. She stood up, her bearings were fuzzy, but it would pass in a moment. There was a noise from outside, the. Through the door came the youngest of them-a girl of twelve who leaped on the bed. Peeping over the doorframe was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, he had long black hair tired in a pony-tail which was complimented by a light beard.

"Come on or you'll be late!"

She stares wide-eyed at the two with an open mouth of 'aw'. The youngest jumps on the bed, then is snatched, pulled for fully into her arms.

"Hey what's the deal!"

"Faith, you're alive-!"

Her beloved little sister is alive! Her father, then her grandfather and-! The tears rained down like a storm, the first time tears of joy have rained down since the end. Finally she released her sister and jumped out of bed, tripping and hitting the ground, still she tumbled back up. Half way out the door she noticed the mirror-unbelievingly she has reverted to her younger self, the self of five, six years ago. No scars, she felt her ribs and arm, no metal-it hadn't happened. Now down the hall, past the living room, past that old rocking chair grandpa uses, past the wall of family photos and awards and into the kitchen. She stopped instantly now searching for her, but still not found.

"Where is she!?"

"Probably just went to school to drop off her paper."  
Her father commented when sipping his coffee. It was a quiet morning and eagerly she waited for that door to open, for that person to walk through them. In that time she found the year, the day; events did not line up with her memories. 'The Hand' doesn't exist, New York never happened, all of it seemed to be one bad dream. Grandpa came over, just as always to bullshit with dad just before the two went to the shop together. At last the sound of a car rang through the walls of their cozy cottage-she bolted out the front door and into the white snow in her pjs to see that person come out of the car, to see her alive. The one person who looks identical to her; short raven-dark hair, same as their father's; brown eyes, toned skin-though not much on the brains as her other half unfortunately. "Destiny..." The tears came again just as she ran with all her might into her twin's arms. Destiny caught her on instinct and the two fell into the fresh powder of snow.

"Oye, what gives? I'm gone for a few hours and you think I just came back from the dead or some shit."

The twin just cried into Destiny's jacket and out of sympathy she doesn't move. The day is spent with the three of them in the snow, running around, making snow angels just the three of them together again.

"Hey Grace what's up with you today? Normally you just stay inside and read a book."

Grace stops patting the snow then continues, "I just want to spend time with my family thats all." Destiny and Faith look at her oddly then giggle, pelting her with snowballs. The sleepiness falls upon them, Grace suggests a sleep over in her room, but refuses to be defeated by sleep.

"I don't want to go to sleep...then wake up and see you're not here."

Destiny just laughs poking Grace's forehead, "You're strange, 'course I'll be here in the morning."

The weight of her eyelids finally forced her to succumb to sleep and the fear that when she woke it would have all been a lie. It was not the end again she woke and again she saw her beloved family; her precious twin sister smiling at her-no traces of blood, no bullet wounds, no knife scars on her her breast or face. New York never happened, the Knight family lives, and they are happy. They got accepted to the same university, graduated together, fell in love at the same time because all is as it should be.

"You've always liked older people."

Destiny jesters her chopsticks at Grace to retaliate, "Says the girl who's dating our old teacher."

"Student-teacher thank you very much, you'll make him sound like a cougar."

They laugh, just as their dates dates arrive wearing confused expressions. Destiny went with another woman while Grace stood snug next to Eon and finally Faith with a strapping looking boy who heard the rumor about the devilish twins of older sisters his girlfriend had. Destiny and Grace take advantage of that and look their shadows over the skittish boy. These two are far more terrifying than the father. Their caps are thrown into the air, graduation from college together...together...no war, no hatred or pain; One-eyed is, but a memory of a dream long since woken from. Her mask no longer is on the face of every enemy, every target; those evil eyes that always held glee at the suffering of others no longer followed her movements-she doesn't exist here. Being married to the one she loves; Eon happily envelops himself around his wife and the crowd is in cheers, but Destiny has ventured away from the party and to the moonlit sea.

"Is the party animal finally reached her limit?"

Destiny laughs some, but her attention is not toward the party or toward this event. They are so close, yet now of all times she seems so distant. Destiny invites Grace to walk with her and for a while they are quiet. Something is bothering her, no, she acting different than before like a piece to another puzzle lost in this one. The moon brightly shined on the water's glass surface, perfectly reflecting its beauty as it sat on the horizon. Its a perfect night to a perfect life.

"Going to stay out here all night?"

Destiny turned her back to Grace and for a while she did not say a word or move until finally, "I'm leaving." Words were empty, like all passion and happiness were drained out before they could even fill. This tone is all to familiar, like all hope has died, giving birth to understanding and acceptance of something.

"Why...?"The bride asked in drowned bitterness, "The place I must go and the place where you belong...its whats different between us."

Destiny wore a half-smile when she finally turned to her twin. Grace's heart sank in that moment-the exact expression she gave during that dream. This could not be, New York never happened, they have lived there lives happily and yet-! (Don't look at me like that!) All the sadness in the world, there roles had been switched, in an attempt to correct memory. Grace ran to her, but with each step it seemed a but farther and farther until all around her become wrapped in darkness. Destiny's back is all that can be seen in the distance; a distinct trail of red leads to her; the twin she yearned for stopped.

"Sorry Grace, maybe next time..."

She fell with speed a fifth of its normal length. Hitting the ground in a pool of white and red she succumbed to an unimaginable amount of death that did not kill on its own, but all at once. Before her stood a cloaked menace, a black and scarlet demon, that had stained on her mask the drops of Destiny's life splattered on. Grace ran, but it was as running in water that only pushes one back despite meaning forward. Once again helpless to reach her sister, through a TV and now in this abyss-the Reaper's villainous yellow eye shines from that abyss, lighting the way as starlight does the night. Even with a single eye the expressions are undeniable: amusement. Time and time again One-eyed stole her kills, appeared at a moment where the shot and skill to end the demon's life existed not. Mocking her, mocking her family, this woman seemed to have a fixation on being a sole reminder of what was lost and how powerless the was to prevent it. Her cloak catches wind as she departs.

"YOU BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!"

The 'One-eyed Reaper' waved her hand back and departed with a single saying, "He who hunts monsters, should see to it that he does not become one. For when you gaze long enough into the abyss the abyss gazes back at you." The back Grace chased after disappeared in fire and chaos just as she was jerked awake. Eon, working at his desk, noticed her as she sat erect on the couch. The leader of 'The Hand' removed himself from work to comfort his dearest friend.

"Bad dream?"

Grace shook her head when wiping the tears from her face. Eon wrapped his powerful arms around her so gently, as though she is a fragile butterfly. The dream vanished from her memory, but a warm feeling remained, the place; her heart, that a sister filled once. 

******Chapter 21-Scars** **  
**

Kira thought it a pleasant task to serve coffee this morning, though she didn't know why as this morning was as any other. A couple times she caught herself humming which only occurred once a year; however it could be because its 'the' time of year. An anniversary to a few above, while Kira just thought of it as an enjoyable memory: the day 'The Dragon' died. She was an inconsequence-el woman who made a bad habit of ruining Kira's fun-as a teacher it was apparently necessary. Kira learned many things during their short time, some things she formed on her own that Dragon did not enjoy as much. 'You reap what you sow' and in this case it was not nearly enough, but the teacher no longer could teach and out-lived her usefulness. As much as Dragon was hated her student thanked her everyday, without her Kira would not exist...of course she would be alive though. A month has passed since the death of Adam Jackson and as fate it would have it Kira is the only 'pleasantly-tempered' person in the White House. Certainly a change to her normal realist persona. All the other employees hold fear and sadness in their eyes-the Jackson family and chief staff most of all. Damon has not spoken a word in a month and Julie has been bullied further, but is terrified to retaliate. These pathetic people now fear their own shadows which Kira finds rather amusing. Still, it is comprehendible that they should experience the emotions they do-its human nature to fear that which is above. The irony is that this is only the beginning, soon each will either die or succumb to the evil that is to come and it won't even be by her entirely. As her rounds are finished, Kira retreats to a bathroom not commonly used by anyone, due of the inconvenience of walking and location of it. She removed her tie, nearly setting it on the counter, then her tailcoat and undershirt. Now all that is seen is her bra, at least clothing-wise. On the naked flesh are countless scars, those that are years old, but are the same age because after the idea of further damaging this body became ill-minded. Many healed in acceleration (didn't help much in the long-run) while others painfully healed naturally and those that did are distinguishable by their ugly jagged shapes. When these abuses were carved on this body it was in an attempt to break her just as the other demons before had, but 'The Dragon' took a particular interest in her. Kira pulled her mind away from old, useless thoughts and began tracing the outlines of her tattoos, both on her arm and that of her chest and back. In all she possessed perhaps five tattoos: the demon sigil on her palm; her shoulder and forearm combination; a beautifully drawn Grim Reaper, who had colorful red Spider Lily flowers growing out; the unneeded serial number on her chest had been the first-R0021. The reaper was the only one done with actual meaning: a remembrance of what her teacher had done and what she had done which inadvertently spared quite a few people. The door opened to Amy. She had not seen the scars, rather she saw them before they became scars and it surprised her still. Of course Amy did not come to see Kira, based on her expression she came to ask something. Intensely the woman studied the scar tissue, more around her augment than anywhere else-scars from a very dangerous procedure that had only had a single survivor. Amy shook her head, recalling the reason of her intrusion.

"Julie's disappeared from school!"

"What concern is that of mine?" Kira cracks a finger. A chill ran up Amy's spine and for a moment she felt death's teeth bare at her naked self. The butler just stood there nonchalantly, without any realization of the affect of her words. Amy stares at her in astonishment, if she didn't know any better its as if-Amy hastily left the restroom, not wanting to come to that conclusion. The bathroom is without unnecessary noise again, its sole occupant flashes her fist into the mirror-the pain is increasing again.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, just stay away...from now on."

Rebecca, Jess and Andrea harassed her again, only this time they related it to her father's death. Why does everyone want to see her dead? Forget the fact her mother is President, why does 'they' have to be killed? Whatever is between those terrorists and her mother should stay between them-don't involve everyone else in their problems! All there is is hate; no courage to stand beside that hatred though. Then there's Kira, why didn't she save her father!? Why just them-she is a demon, she could have saved everyone! Julie cringes under the wet branches of tree in some unknown neighborhood. Having run blindly, the realization came she had become lost and in a not-too-favorable place. Going 'home' was out of the question and there were no 'friends' to run to-Julie is alone. A small band of men walk across the street to her side; she quickens her pace-can't trust anyone. Two other men cut in front of her from the sharp right of an alley. Now she is cut off with no where to run; no one to call help to-just the gluttonous eyes of these men. One reaches their hand and snatches Julie's shoulder while another grabs her swinging arms. A gun is placed against her temple as a silent warning not to scream. Everything became distance and disconnected, one moment these men hold her and arm about to unleash hell and the next they are pleading to shut its gates after releasing the demon. Her attacks were harder this time, quicker, not because of adrenaline, but that the restraint is lessened. Their teeth are broken in from a metallic hand, another draws a knife and soon has it embedded in his chest. Julie was dropped into a puddle, but had a phantom-like expression. Six men against a single demon is no challenge, in fact it wasn't even a warm-up, but the furry is thrown still. The demon does not know why it has acted this way, nor why she has killed these six as though they were enemies. She huffs, the weak are killed by the strong and in this cruel reality she has out them out of their misery. Saved those who are weaker-please, they will die off sooner or later. Now as the fight stops, a black shadow is cast over her already milky sight. The senses return, the shadow seemed welcoming nearly, that the Grim Reaper himself had come to ferry her soul away to a peaceful afterlife. But the person before her eyes is no ferryman, but still wore a very grim expression when standing over the floored girl. Julie did not wish to be saved, by this person especially; the last person she wants to see. Kira glares with annoyance, what troublesome things humans cause; unnecessary things. Julie would not move of her own accord, therefore Kira force her to when she roughly grabs her arm and pulls her to her feet-they would not support their own weight and again she fell to the ground.

"Get up." Kira growls when cracking another finger. "Leave me alone." Further agitated at the human's arrogance she says it again, now restraining a very necessary urge to strangle her. While suppressing this urge Kira grabs her again, but this time Julie struggles, pulling violently then finally claws at the face, brings her hand down and tears the loose shirt Kira wore-R0021. Julie hesitated at seeing the tattoo and even more at the scar than ran down her left eye; quickly Kira shut her eye. Speechless; looking now, Kira had quite a few scars and upon closer inspection her arm is truly something out of a movie or game.

"S-sorry..." Her tears look no different than the rain that soaked her face, yet they stood out the most. Julie is soaked to the bone having started to shiver when the wind first blew up her skirt-Kira had also become drenched in her time out here. Julie came closer, she drops her head against Kira's breast now crying fully in this god-forsaken city. The butler placed her hand on Julie's head and kept it there, not caring to do anymore-how troublesome this had become. Kira rubs her eye, finally removing the false and quickly shutting it again. For a second she looked away and to somewhere down the street; she was annoyed and that much was worn on her face. Kira finally folds her hands in her pocket, having turned around and started walking to a motorcycle parked at the corner. The helmet that sat on its side is swept up and placed on her head in the same motion. Julie stares at the bodies around her then at Kira who started the bike.

"You're just going to leave me!?" Kira shrugs, "Considering I had no intention of helping you from the start-yes."

Anger flared within her again, "Then why did you!? Every time you always save us-if you don't give a damn then why bother!?" Kira chuckles shaking her head-how conceited this human is.

"A whim." Kira answered when cracking a finger, "Though you would be wise to show respect toward the one who did save you. Of course that might be too much to ask of a spoiled brat who can't even protect herself."

Julie yelled, how dare Kira-! She bit her lip before the second word blew past her teeth. Kira is right, always being saved, always running away from a problem; Julie grew used to a pampered life a s now holds no power, rather hide behinds her mothers which is now failing. The butler turned around and pulled out a spare helmet saying, "I am going to give you a choice: get on the bike and learn how to protect yourself or stay here and die for all I care." The choice seemed obvious, but at the same time it would be believed Julie had a better chance on her own then following someone as dangerous as Kira. She wasn't like this before April, no it seemed like a switch that is broken in the center, but more toward a dark persona. None can tell what Kira seeks, what her reasons are for the actions committed, but what is clear is a mask always worn. 

**Chapter 22-Players**

Their armor is strong. Their weapons are powerful. Their will is second to none. These are the traits of a 'Hand' warrior and what keeps brothers and sisters safe and happy in battle. The time has come for this war to end and for the new order to arise and take power. Hidden within the bowls of a oil-rig, the army prepares to launch its first and final attack on the nation's capital. Each person bore the white hand over their shoulders to signify the weight each bears-the sake of protecting true justice and the weak. Every man and woman has suffered a loss, then there are the few who have only known loss and are named leaders for the strength they posses to protect, fiercely. The asset within the White House has given detailed access to every security code, camera and blue plan imagined with the same idea in mind: bring this government to its knees. Once again Eon would take to the front lines, leading all those loyal to the ends all desire. For the sake of family they fight. For the sake of comrades they fight. For the sake of peace these brave souls will fight and die this day. Eon is no different, but above the peace he dreams of, he would rather share it with his comrades then alone therefore he instills that protect each other is second to none. As a stranger, Grace found no comfort when she began this path. She knew no one, she trusted no one, and she hated everyone-Eon most of all. But time can change people and Grace found in her heart that forgiveness is what separates the vendetta from the victor. Grace forgave Eon and 'The Hand' because they deserved it, they earned it for what they have done for an unjust world. The 'One-eyed Reaper'-she would not be forgiven, not after murdering thousands of innocent people; butchering Grace's family was the first, but this servant of Satan will burn as all demons must. Grace would help user the age of peace, but unless she reaped her revenge neither she nor the world would know such peace. The 'Reaper' must die. As an elite commander, Grace wore her rank with little difference-y than that of a normal warrior, but still she wore the difference with pride and honor. Standing beside the supreme leader their is a sense of accomplishment as to how far they have come. Five years ago she stood in a much smaller mass and looked up to Eon with awe as his glorious light. Now is not the time to revel in the past, but to seize the future as is the message the supreme leader delivers to his comrades. This brigade is sent out having Eon and Grace to mind each other. Eon caught himself before speaking and decides it best to remain silent about the matter until the time comes-he needs her right now. In one hour, fifty-three minutes and five seconds the units would be in place and launch the preemptive strike against all law-enforcement agencies-hospitals and fire-departments will be left alone. There is no need, no desire, to shed innocent blood not among 'The Hand'. Grace stares carefully at the helmet; bullet wounds reminds of the close calls she has experienced with the 'Reaper'. The large scratch to its side had been their last encounter in France: a knife had be thrown and it grazed the side of the visor before embedding into a wall. Grace had nearly been killed that time two years ago because her mission of surveillance had gone awry when colliding with the 'Reaper's' assassination of the said target. Their paths crossed only twice since her spring from imprisonment, but often they ran along side for different reasons. This would be the last time, Grace would be sure of it.

The Old Salt knew more than his 'superiors' gave him credit for. As head of the program he achieved access to information even that incompetent President knew nothing of. At first this was to be used as blackmail, a forced manner that would make or break his future in the new nation. He planned everything likely as long as the others had and went as far as to procure the world's greatest assassin to lead his demons. Of course bringing in that woman nearly brought his plans to ruin. 'Dragon' spent years without opposition or challenge, yet in five months she becomes a bloodied corpse with a smashed skull-ironic. It was a beautiful scene: blood and glass and Kira with a darkest aura standing in the center of it all. Perfection. The ultimate soldier-obedient, loyal, merciless and effective. It was no surprise to him to find that a manner of the 'Dragon's' techniques and even a sliver of her 'unique' personality continued to be present within Kira. She has multiple personas, not a single one bleeds into another making the chance of her becoming defective close to zero. Another set back though had been when she single-handedly annihilated his entire demon core, aside from the one that escaped. Things had to be organized after that and the colonel decided it best to come to his superiors openly and 'propose' the effects his demon would have in created their new nation if only they allow him to join. Needless to say they jumped at the opportunity for this 'demon' to clear the way to power and that she has. If there is one thing he would change in his creation it would be for her to bring out the monster-he saw it at those times alone; cruelty, anger, rage, thrill; evil. Now she sits beside him as an equal, as his unwavering sword. Kira has changed to a degree: she is not mindless and when her knowledge differs from his she will speak out to the best benefit. If only she had become sooner, in his early years then they could have saved many innocent soldiers in the last war. News had already reached about the details of the plan and the small platoon of elite troops were locked and loaded, ready to be deployed once 'Olympus' is taken. Finally after decades of planning and sacrifice this broken government (stretching that it is a government) will become the ashes that the new nation sprouts from. All there is is to seal the deal, to tie up loose ends and to finish the fight. The Colonel smiles when glancing at Kira as her eyes rest. Though he never understood her taste in attire, it seemed quite befitting for the occasions even when it seemed it did not. Her eye is especially useful-the fact she could actually see the future is a rather pleasing side-effect not to mention that she was the only one to have such an ability.

"T-minus ten minutes till drop."

Kira's eyes opened then she stood, and just before the turbulence started. She made her way to a jump-pack and during that time her cloak disappeared and made room for it to attach to her back. The 'warriors' will seize the ground while they will drop from above, giving no time for authorities to connect those involve and to freeze assists before its too late. Kira walked to the hanger door and looked outside to a nearby window.

"Is it true you can see the future?"

A soldier asks, honestly, when addressing the feared 'One-eyed Reaper'. For all they knew, this person is the deadliest in the world, but the soldier was brave enough to ask a question that also pertained to them; though they meant it as a joke. The Reaper wore a mask and only the Colonel knew her face, but after seeing the scarred eye most perfected only to know the mask. She turned to the soldier and shrugs casually saying "I can, but perhaps you would like a demonstration; maybe on you." The Colonel was more pleased with the answer because its obvious she feels no remorse nor care toward anyone. At times he wondered why Kira would follow him anyway. Governments don't entertain her, right and wrong aren't comprehended in her mind so then what purpose does she have? When approached with this question Kira held her casually dark persona: "Its entertaining to watch governments fall, to see the faces paralyzed in fear as what they believed to be a strong foundation crumbles with ease." Reaper returned to the door, "T-minus thirty seconds to drop zone." The launch shoots open-ten holes in the floor prepare for fifty soldiers to drop.

"Remember work from the roof to the to 'The Nest'; capture all civilians, take VIPs with you; eliminate all blue targets."

The Reaper jumped first, diving down head first while space became a ground she felt weightless for moments. No sound, no tightness, just the feeling of whooshing all around. If only this could lay forever, a time where all her senses could be let go and where nothing in this accursed world mattered-freedom is a lie; justice are chains; truth is an illusion. The Reaper remembers just that as she grips the scarlet scarf and heads toward the end.

The house had been stripped of all evidence of her presence. Athena and Hades were left at Amy's, perhaps the only evidence that the person called 'Kira' existed. Its empty...the master bedroom had been repaired and cleaned and yet she can still see the markings. Her Argument hand touches the walls yet there is no feeling between the fingertips and plaster. She never got used to this feeling, a sense of them being 'phantom limbs' remains even after all this time. What an exiting finale it will be! The waters running red with blood, the smell of charred flesh of gunpowder and gasoline-battle is the only home now. (I'm not wrong.) She knew this to be true despite all the world telling her different. The pain returned to her chest, but now it felt as an old friend, something that has always been there to remind and to assure. For the last time she wore this armor; for the last time she wore this raven cloak; for the last time she wields this darker than black sword, but always she would wear this mask-unto Hell to meet Lord Satan. This is the last chance to reflect on her actions unto now. It was not that she regretted what had been done nor what came of it, but rather how cunning and rather brilliant she has been to pull this off. Her head twitches a bit. (Heh. Can hardly contain myself.) Slowly and deeply she breathes, dispersing emotions of the other. Sitting down, she rubs her eyes with a small amount of hope the throbbing would go away. (I can't wait to see the look on their faces-and to have my goal realized.) Unlike the others, this 'dream' did not exist in the future, rather the past, that's where it lies. The other demon is unlike her, while she exists in the dark the other is light; a dream for the past in not one that can surpass the future and unlike the Reaper, the other demon likely plans on having a future. Such a strange thing it is to 'plan' for a future when actions of the past can destroy it. It does help that the future is already know and it is only so, by her actions in the past that will reflect exactly what will happen after. How bothersome it is to think about these things, things she will not even care to see. From her pocket, a black knight is pulled and unwrapped from it carefully folded cloth. Fondly its looked upon, as is the picture that lies beside it-a human gave this drawing to her some time ago; that child would likely be around the same age as Julie by now. What's it matter now? She hardly remembers, so many memories, so many events, it became hard to hold onto the original dream and sooner or later it was forgotten; replaced by the idea of another dream, though similar, it was not as 'gentle' as the first. A large sigh and a defeated smile are given by this woman, "He who hunts monster should see to it that he does not become one. For when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss gazes back at you-ironic, huh...Destiny...one who gazed too long." 

**Chapter 23-I have seen Death and he is me**

There was no time to evacuate. The attack swept over them as a storm, but ironically there were no tours planned for today. The first sounds came from the eastern gate then another from the south-they would soon be surrounded. But not before the President is take to the bunker, to 'The Nest'. The East Wing and the Main house were taken last they heard before the Oval Office was locked down and sent descending. The blast door shut over them and it became much like a missile clio as each of the four, six-inch-thick blast door closed. There are only three ways out-now two since the first is shut via AI. The first is an access tunnel for supplies and ventilation while the last is an emergency escape leading to an old tunnel system build by a former President. Of course if one had to resort to that tunnel then you knew they were screwed. All the President could think about was her children who remained in the White House. If this was to be the end of America then would they be killed as well? Where is Kira? Where is that malevolent bastard when she is actually needed!? Her priority is the President's life, but that priority has been over-ridden once already so why not again? For the first time the President wishes for Kira to be here, for her to save her family just as always, and for her to end this. The security video fed into 'The Nest's' monitors and from above and below they saw two different forces kill and capture. In the Master Bedroom Madam watched helplessly as her children hide under the bed. Quickly Madam swiped the phone and called the line bedside the bed. Julie grabbed it as quickly as her mother dialed it, somehow knowing it was her mother. The phone's video display shows the children's frightened expressions.

"Mom where are you!?" She sees her mother as the both wept.

"I'm here baby, just, just stay where you are someone is going to get you!"

"I'm scared!" Julie held onto her brother close to her chest, "I know honey-" The 'One-eyed Reaper' is seen by a Secret Service walking down the hall. From there a communication specialist watches the Reaper's movements as she gets closer to the Master Bedroom. Madam regains some composure when she sees the screen.

"Julie I want you to listen to me very carefully: I have to turn off the phone."

"Don't leave us-!"

"Baby they'll know where you're at if I stay on the line." The line is disconnected. Sara acts as the shoulder Madam falls back to as they all witness the Reaper halt at the door of the Master Bedroom. She wears a black cloak, a kind of sword is clipped onto her back and that well-known mask is on her face. The door knob is jiggled, then with a quick jab it is torn from the wood. Every person in the room watched as the Realer went straight to the bed and flipped it in a single movement. Julie screams when pushing her brother away and jumping at the Reaper.

"JULIE!"

With no hesitation she snaps her fingers around the girl's neck then grabs the boy by the arm. Julie jabs a scissors at the arm, but they broke on impact. Julie is lifted off the ground then is thrown into the wall and rendered unconscious. Knowing the boy is too frightened to move she shoves him to the sister and grabs the phone left on the floor. As expected it rings.

"I am begging you-!" The President pulls from her guard's grip, "Please not my children!" This is the first time the two have honestly spoken. Very few can say they have seen the evil eye of the 'One-eyed Reaper' not to mention to ask what seems a favor. The phone is crushed in her palm-what an annoying woman. The daughter is lifted onto the Reaper's shoulder and as for the boy...oddly he took this person's hand-strange child, to cling to the hand of the person who murdered his father right before his eyes. The Colonel came with little to do-the Reaper is a one-person army and apparently there was little need for the soldiers he brought along.

"I see you're as good with children as ever." For once the Colonel gave an annoyed expression, a rather pleasant to the Reaper who had yet to be given the expression until now. He picked up Damon and held him as gently as any loving father would.

"Lets go see your mom."

Madam did not recognize the Colonel, but she had a very hard time not ripping someone's throat out for touching her children. Communications were jammed and from what people could tell, all of the Capital now belong to the enemy-this took them less than an hour. What comes next no one can tell-(You can't trust humans.) Kira's words echoed in her mind and in this moment she knew someone had betrayed them and it could very well be someone within this room. Where are they to go if this bunker is breached? What assists do they have that this or the betrayers have taken and/ or frozen? All is against them now. The best that can be done is to pray for salvation-even as the tunnel doors open and an armada of 'Hand' troops enter and seize the bunker.

The struggle was short-any Secret Service who fired were killed and those who did not were spared. One trooper went to the computers and obtained complete control over the AI which allowed those above to rappel down to the bunker.

"Ah Eon, I see things have gone well on your end."

Eon did not express any care to see the Colonel, nor to explain to Grace who would also be coming. Mirandia stared at the woman who followed close behind and then said a single name that came to mind:

"Destiny...Knight?"

The woman glanced at the President with a sorrowful gaze. "That woman died a long time ago..." "You act as though it is a bad thing!" The Reaper dropped Julie and shoved Damon beside the President as she snickered.

"Damon! Julie!" A joyous mother yells with tears in her eyes.

Grace did not hesitate when throwing her fist toward the demon, but the Reaper stopped it with the palm of her hand, unrecognizing of the person who attacked.

"That's quite a greeting; Eon, is this pup yours?"

The leader touches Grace's shoulder silently signaling for her to disarm. She was unbelieving that he tells her to do such a thing, that this bastard is the one who took everything from her and he-"Reaper, you probably wouldn't remember, but this is the one who escaped the facility." The Reaper giggles when putting her hand down and looking back to the Colonel. Mirandia could not make sense of any of it, a United States officer in leagues with a terrorist organization-a coup? Grace held back, knowing Eon had some kind of plan.

"You're not Destiny Knight, then why-" "I was her twin sister..." Grace cut off the President. With shock, it could not be fathomed how the twin sister of Destiny Knight could be alive; that person was reported to be crushed under a collapsed ceiling-upon closer examination, that was obviously a lie when the scars on her face correspond with the injury.

"If you're her sister why would you join the people who killed her!?"

The President became angry at this person's decision to dishonor her sister's name; going against the sacrifice-"You really don't know anything." Grace grinds her teeth, knowing it wasn't a fault of hers she didn't, she had nothing to do with the incident. The Reaper moved to a nearby wall and enjoys this collision of human emotion. The Colonel claps his hands to avert attention from personal matters. Need he remind them the reason this little hand has gathered here, though there is time so introductions are in order. The leader of the band of soldiers is Colonel Edward Smith the director of operations for the 'D.e.m.o.n.s Program' (Non-governmental, Operations, Mobile, Enhanced, Dehumanized, Soldiers). His pride and joy, one of two surviving subjects, the 'One-eyed Reaper' who is also said to see the future. She is responsible for the murder of over three-thousand people, including the annihilation of the Knight family-though she missed one it seems. Following is Eon Bhattacharya (bonds of karma) the founder and leader of the terrorist organization known as 'The Hand' who was directly responsible for the death of Destiny Knight. Grace Knight is the sole survivor of the Knight family and twin sister to the late Destiny, who swears revenge against the Reaper. Now that introductions were over attention was taken back to the task at hand: the seizure of the Government of the United States of America.

"Why am I not surprised to see you again, Edward?"

The old man looks past Eon to see Amy Richardson, my this is quite a reunion. The past seems to want to be revealed and converge all on this day. Julie awoke, with a sharp pain in her side-the Reaper made sure she would remember not to challenge another and purposely broke a rip and fractured two others. It would be wise of her to fear this demon. As the two men spoke the assassin become annoyed with a ominous glare.

"I had forgotten there was more than I-" "Don't you dare compare us!" Reaper shut her only visible eye, such a drama queen. She questioned why this woman was fixated on her, Grace's rage inflamed at the question. "You don't remember the family you butcher?!" She shrugs, "Should I? Human life is so fragile and expendable; why concern myself with a select few-" Her sentence is cut short by her own meaning as a dark smile is curled under her mask.

"Oh, I see, you're the little pup I didn't bother with."

Quickly she lost interest and decided to postpone it a bit. Though once again she is in an irritating situation when another fixes their gaze upon her-that nurse from the facility seems to have figured it out, not that it matters. Grace is seconds from losing her temper; "Grace..." Eon caresses her head, "Don't fight her, not yet." The colonel chuckles a bit when monitoring to the Reaper. "You outt' to keep that pup on a short leash. They are easy to become chew toys-" "Reaper! If you two want to have it out do it later." One shrugs apologetically, "Sorry, sorry...I'm only teasing, she's not even worth killing." By now the 'villains' normally reveal their big plan and that there is nothing that can be done to stop it. The Reaper prefers to end things quickly before things that were outside of calculation occur. On the other hand the Colonel has the tendency to take the time to gloat. What an annoy aspect of humans who believe in absolute victory. Its a simple plan: destroy this false government and give birth to the ideal nation. The plan includes taking care of the President and the lineage of it to ensure none from the old government would continue the lies. Madam looks to Eon and then to Grace.

"Is this what you want!? Are you that willing to give up on the nation your sister died to pro-?!" Grace pointed her pistol at the President, but the line-of-fire was block by a courageous, yet foolish Sara.

"Grace wait-!"

Grace hesitated when seeing her, then quickly she bottled up her notion and holstered her weapon.

"Make no mistake-Destiny didn't die for your government, she died protecting something better that."

Amy stood, despite being cuffed and angrily trotted to the Reaper. Some tried to stop her, but the assassin dismissed them.

"Where is 'your' say in this? 'Reaper'!"

She stepped closer to the woman and reached her hand for the neck-they tighten with a flick of her wrist and lift Amy off her feet. (My say?) A laughter is heard then a long and loud sigh. She says that there is no need for her to have as say, no need for them to care for what she says-actions speak louder than words. The Colonel commands for Amy to be released, "As you wish." A second longer and Amy would have lost conscious, but to suffer a simple, short punishment such as coughing is a very lenient one. There are thirteen prisoners here and only twenty troops, such an easy fight this to be should the two turn against each other. The President looked harder and for the first time noticed the connection of the pure-white hair-Kira is the 'One-eyed Reaper'. She is a fool, there were so many sighs and yet she didn't notice, no she didn't 'want' to notice. This foolishness cost the life of her husband-Kira killed her husband. Now her children have suffered because of the whim of 'Kira'. It could be fair though, from the moment they met she told Mirandia not to trust her, not to trust any human. Kira warned them before any of this happened. Edward has indulged these people long enough, now its time to end this class government and begin anew. The Colonel's personal Desert Eagle is drawn from its holster.

"Would you like to stand?"

Mirandia looked at him and then to the Reaper with hatred and rage. She glared hard into that black and burning gold eye, hoping this 'monster' suffers for what she has done. (Ah...) Her eye reflects delight. (At last, you see the truth...then its over.)

"Or would you rather me shoot your children first; save them the agony of watching their mother die?" "Go to Hell." He points his weapon at the boy first-mercy. A bullet fires from the barrel and yet does nothing expect drill into the floor.

"Eh?"

He had not felt it because it was quicker than the bullet it seems. No, not that because he didn't 'expect' to feel it. The Colonel did not recognize his own blood, nor his own heart as its held before him. The blood had sprayed onto the Jackson family, but none cared. It was not until the screams of a captive, not until he turned to see the Reaper behind him that he understood-Kira had killed him. Edward is dead before Kira yanks her arm and drops his corpse. The warriors of 'The Hand' did nothing, rather they did not know what to do-the Colonel was thought to be an ally and with the Reaper beside him they assumed the same, but now-whose side is she on?

"You talk too much, old man."

Everyone in the room jumped back at the feeling of this evil aura; the 'demon' that just torn her ally's beating heart, right from his chest. She cracked a finger and shot her arm down to flick off the excess blood. Eon was the first to break the waves of this darkness, "Why did you kill your own ally, your handler-?" The sight of the splattered blood dripping from the broken section of the mask sends a chill down his spine.

"Make no mistake, Edward had his uses, but as a tool his usefulness to me ran out. Weren't you planning on killing him anyway? I believe a thank you is in order."

Grace points her rifle at the murder. Very trigger-happy, though even if she pulls the trigger this person will not be killed. The Reaper inspects the blood on her glove. "I am my own master and an ally to no one, I thought you learned that when I tried to kill you." She cracks another finger. "The hell are you thinking? Why was he your tool!?" The Reaper jesters her palm to face the ceiling, "Why to break this world of course...would you like to hear a little story, twin of Destiny Knight? Don't worry it is not long, as pointless things annoying me quite a bit." She tilts her head up toward the ceiling with an amused sigh.

"From the beginning of human civilization a disease had taken root, a falseness-freedom is a lie; justice are chains; truth is an illusion. I alone discovered this reality and decided to correct that mistake: I wanted to release humanity from the falsehood of 'safety'. Humans have been bound by this and those who became aware created a system that uses the falsehood to control other humans."

Her head came back down and again she looked at the thick crimson on her hand. This world is not worth saving, nor is it worth her time to try. These humans are not worth saving, therefore maybe what they need is a new beginning.

"This 'government' is a prime example, allying to the idea of 'safety' and yet again they provide the same lie: freedom." "So what you're the great savior of humanity!?"

The Reaper smiles under her mask and jesters her finger to Grace, "Savior?" She laughs, "I want nothing more than for this corrupted world to burn. There is nothing worth saving here, in fact I want watch the expressions of you humans as the falsehood of 'safety' is crushed before your eyes."

The Reaper turned her attention to the Jackson family. The look in their eyes; the gateway to their souls, displays the true colors of their nature. It will always be a thrill to see these colors, in a world where she only saw black and white. Seeing that is the only way she can feel alive in this dull world! The excitement of battle, of the colors of emotions, that which she cannot feel. Now all of their weapons point at the center of evil, waiting for the command to slaughter this insanity.

"You're insane." "Quiet the opposite, I see the world for world it is." Another finger is cracked. "I'm not wrong, this world is wrong." The Reaper's arm shreds the cloak's sleeve, protruding numerous jet black blades.

"I will break the system...and I will have my revenge." 

******Chapter 24-Grace's Revenge** **  
**

Another place soaked in the blood of the innocent and yet it is also spared. They could not see why she saved them, why she killed those of the Colonel and of 'The Hand'. All they knew is that five people were protected by the ultimate evil and returned to the surface. Finally there was a place to rest, more of forced rest. The children were frightened to death of this woman and no less than Amy, Sara and the President. Finally released, Madam seized the opportunity to allow her fist to dictate her words-the Reaper allowed this act, but silently laughed when the woman bruised her frail hand against the war-fit material of the mask. Its wondered how the mask was ever broken to begin with.

"You son-of-a-bitch! How could you-!"

"Simple." Kira wraps her fingers around the President's wrist and squeezes slowly. Progressively the pain increases until Madam is off Kira and on her knees, cringing at the intensity.

"Its the only reason for my existence. I lived with nothing and the only thing, in this dull reality, that could bring color was by killing people-their suffering made me feel alive."

Kira releases her grip and removes her cloak, "So everything, everything you told me, you told all of us, were lies!?" Madam yells. The Reaper's eye softened, "They were neither lies nor 'truth'. What I said is fact, but a few details may have been left unmentioned."

The cloak is thrown at the President. She is ordered to wear the cloak that it is bullet proof-just as Madam was to refuse, Kira added that if she wanted her children to live she would do as told. Picking from dead bodies, all wear a type of body armor, but none wield weapons. It is assumed that answers would be found at this time, but what difference would it make if they were neither a lie not fact? Kira in truth had no gun, but rather had an impressive assortment of glads and a single sword, made from the material the President provided a lifetime ago. The small band moved out, to there personal honestly not a single one wanted to be anywhere, but beside Kira because they knew, despite her evil, she would keep them alive. Soon their dark protector became sluggish and eventually leaned heavily against a wall acting as though she was out of breath. She grabbed her chest as she violently coughed to the point where blood spilled from her mask-they were order to move on. Kira killed many members of 'The Hand' and unlike before she had no restraint, this frightened the group all the more because it would mean she is a thousand times more dangerous even 'after' what was revealed. Kira is an animal, a monster with no equal and yet what seems as her greatest assets can be the weakness that causes downfall. Kira has a 'human' body and can be killed, somehow.

"You never had a family did you?" Madam growls, holding the hands of her children, yet keep between Kira and them.

"What I said was fact-I 'had' family and friends and they did all die, however..." Kira chuckles gleefully, "It was because I killed them." A warrior has his heart pierced by a knife. "Attachments to one's name, attachments to one's lineage; they are useless chains that restrain and confine people from accessing the limits of their capacity-I removed those chains, that's all." The group hid on a stairway where the East Wing lead out to a security check-point where a large gap halted their escape.

"Amy and Sara you go first."

The both looked at her with ghost-like features.

"If you die, then we'll know its not safe for the others to cross."

Saved to become bait, perfect. With a small amount of motivation from Kira's blade the two sprinted across, past the grand piano and to a hallway. Specifically the Jackson's are moved in front of Kira and told that Mirandia would go first. A step was taken then the ultimate evil is thrown against the wall by a black blur. In time, Kira had put her arm up; she blocked the pistol and the knife aimed low. Their eyes meet.

"You forget little pup..." The blades fling open, "I can see the future!"

Kira threw her arm out, then grabbed Grace and chucked her out a window. More soldiers came and fired-"RUN!" Kira picked up the boy and ran, creating a gap between her and Mirandia and Julie. More shots are fired; Kira drops back, tossing the boy and darting between a grenade and the family. (Sh-) The grenade explodes. The family had dropped to the ground, having been shielded by Kira's body from the entire blast. The Reaper stood first, having the right half of her armor and clothing scorched and crisp to the point of breaking to ash. It was known before that Kira had an 'Argument' for a right arm, but not for a right leg. Much of her armor was melted or cracked and even her mask lost the upper portion of the left side. Suddenly she staggered then once again the violent coughing returned, sending her back to her knees.

"Kira-!"

Against fear, against hatred, against the very essence of being human Julie extended her hand to Kira, but found it rejected when Kira turned around and grabbed the blade of vengeance.

"Twice in one day I find myself in an annoying situation-Grace Knight, won't you die obediently like the rest of your family?"

Grace roars when pushing Kira back. In turn her opponent laughs darkly, finding that this little pup may actually be worth killing this time! Kira jumps to her feet and draws her darker than black katana. At last someone with conviction. Just as other 'Hand' members Grace wields a sword and draws it, colliding with her target; her vendetta; the reason for her existence until now!

"Why!?"

How pointless it is to ask such meaningless questions. This long endless journey is finally reaching an 'end' and yet Grace seeks answers. Humans are curious indeed.

"Boredom I suppose."

This answer inflamed her even more and to get another exciting reaction, Kira further agitates this death seeker.

"Your sister was nothing like you humans portrayed her as! She killed for the sake of self-preservation; you may try to justify it as protecting others, but in the end she was no different than I!" "SHUT UP!" The sky cries a summer-time rain that is warm and welcoming. Against Virginia's humility, this feeling was refreshing and gave energy to the two fighters. Grace cut Kira's arm and manages a scratch on her mask, by that it not enough. Why is it always her! Why in all these years does the Reaper continue to interfere in her life-why her!? Coincidence and circumstance is all it is; a series's of events that leads to a final end. It is not wise to be coincided to believe she is special. Kira grabs Grace's sword and snaps its blade, kicking her back and pointing her own blade to the ground. She leans on the handle when falling back to her knees again yet appear as though she is simply sitting.

"Everything you have done until now...has been apart of my plan." "What?" "I needed a pawn to push those in the dark to make their move, so I orchestrated a plan by luring a few 'Hand' members to attack the UN five years ago. Of course I had to take care of a few loose ends..." Kira stood, "Your family was one-" "Why didn't you kill me then!?"

Kira lifted the sword and tapped her shoulder a few times, "You weren't worth killing." Grace leaped at her adversary and moved to where both hand were taken by Kira; Grace's knee went up and knocked the sword from her hand-(!?) Grace was thrown far this time, but did so with a grin on her face.

"Didn't-see that-d-did ya!?"

Kira dropped on the ground-her heart stopped. Grace had kicked the sword to distract Kira's eye then sent her fist into Kira's chest once and with enough force to crack her artificial lung and stop her heart. Mirandia did not believe her eyes at first and could not determine I this was a blessing or curse-Kira isn't moving. Julie ran first, against the pain in her body, she slid beside the woman and dropped her head to the chest. A hollow silent canopy. Immodestly she began CPR, feeling she would rather be used and be alive with Kira than to be killed like an animal. Kira taught her to fight for her place in this world, but now Kira is about to loss her place. Grace had little energy left, but could speak still, "Are you insane!? That woman is this cause of everything and you're trying to 'save' her! Dammit she killed your father!"

Tears became one with the rain-she could not understand herself, but every time, Kira always had this look, this gaze that no adult seemed to notice. Even now, as her heart is silent, Julie can see Kira's suffering smug! So she has to help Kira however she can; Julie feels a bullet graze her arm and hits the ground. She must save Kira! Now fighting the pain Julie pounces up and hits it elbow on Kira's chest. Nothing. She does it again. Motionless.

"Wake up you asshole!"

Julie sat up, weaved her finger together and pounded Kira's chest-instantly she jerked up, giving a sucking gasp for air. In a moment of triumph Julie falls beside Kira with a bullet through her heart; another shot deflects off Kira's arm-the animal had been awoken. For the longest time thing before before Grace did not move, it stared at the ground then seemed to notice the red puddle that spread beside her. Grace had no more bullets and felt something far more sinister emanate from this thing. A finger cracks.

"What's one-thousand minus seven?"

Her voice sounded liked gargled water, almost as the air meant for words is only half-used. The animal stood and made no hesitation in sprinting at Grace. No time to find proper footing, the warrior just barely made it to block a sword swing though she stumbled back then lost all footing again. The next act was sloppy: a simple being-down of the blade; Grace rolled to avoid it and finally gained the desired footing. This was different compare to before, whatever is acting is doing it unconsciously and by instinct.

"993...986...979..."

She cracked another finger-her eye's black now screams with the red of blood vessels. Over and over she rambles attacking and overwhelming Grace. Before she can notice One-eyed is behind her thrusting the sword through the woman's side and further pushing her until the ground.

"Don't worry, I'll only half-kill you."

One-eyed steps on her hand passionately at last pulling her sword out when the screaming stops. Again she coughs blood, sliding to her knee beside Grace. Gasping for air, composure is regained as well as a sense of honor for this most worthy opponent. Kira stepped back, leaving her sword beside the wounded woman and explains the rule: may the fastest win. No strength; no energy; no moral left-and yet there is still the fire in her eyes, the drive for both her and Kira to die. Accepting this last attack and only guested of goodwill, Grace takes up the sword. Kira whispered something, by Grace could not hear as the blades return her arm and as Grace fell, releasing the handle of the katana. Many times Kira tripped when returning to Julie's side. By this time Mirandia has turned her over and is applying pressure in futile hopes to preserve her child's life. The protective mother snaps her jaws threatening to keep away as Kira is the cause of her daughter's wounds. She armed herself with a forgotten knife, but One-eyed cripples ten feet away. The sword given to Grace remains imbedded through it's owner's chest and still that person gets back up with her blood creating a trail to follow. The evil eye is shut, as the evil one removes the tattered scarf and nearly folds it into squares.

"Was that part of your big plan?"

Kira stops, yanking the sword from her sheath of a body, its clear how much damage her human body has withstood until now.

"Didn't go quite as it did in my head." A chuckled response as the President's jacket is removed and replaced by the scarf. Helicopters of military grade land at the opposite end of the White House grounds and from it soldier pour out, securing the site for their leader. Damon takes his mother's hand and Kira lifts Julie, cradling her like a child.

"You're a murdering bastard and I hope you burn in Hell for every person you've killed."

Medics run, taking the girl from Kira and the boy from his mother.

"Never trust-anyone t-too much. R-remember the Devil-was once-an Angel." She commented breathlessly when seeing the Secretary of Defense walk out of his chopper.

"Its better-to be hurt then-to hurt others...I've existed this long-b-believing that what I have done-was right. As you wish-the ones responsible-for Adam's-d-death-will die..."

Kira grabs Mirandia, activates her blades and thrusts. Her body dropped quick, not moving in the rain. The children had not seen this action and Kira believed it right they did not. Walking with an appearance of ease, she stopped beside Defense Secretary, the 'Honorable' Mr. Shaw.

"Bloody hell, there's nothing left."

Shaw grumbles when inspecting the smoldering ruins of the White House. Kira shrugs when flicking the blood from her arm.

"You could have at least handled a few more 'Hand' terrorists."

Again Shaw grumbles, then an elderly grunt-hopefully his good-for-nothing son-in-law Edward is still alive. The radio is silent as the man demands a report. Kira's pats the Secretary's back with a relaxed smile then works her way to his chest. This game has been fun, but its checkmate. Her hand rips across his throat, a clean cut that opens his vessels to become one with the rain. The sight, is this hate-filled gaze that reveals the pitch-black that is where a soul once stood. The Grim Reaper had collected the final soul and now would revel in triumph silently and alone. Shaw watches thirty years of planning fall apart in an instant as the President of the United States stands with nothing more than a flesh wound to her side, surprised herself that she is alive. Kira has waited for this moment, has walked this path of carnage and darkness, alone, for this moment. This is a requiem for the fallen. 

******Chapter 25-Human** **  
**

The soldiers are shot down by Eon's men. Kira looks over her shoulder, wearing a weariness that is easily seen by he who knew One-eyed the best. Still the scarred eye did not open, though by now blood has streamed from it down her face and to meet that which came from her mouth. Despite what he wanted Eon know he could not help her now that she would not want it. In his arms he holds a barely conscious Grace. Mirandia broke from the center of the group and stopped feet before Kira.

"Shaw he-"

"From the beginning it was him." Eon answered, knowing Kira is close to a standing corpse at this point. Grace stirred in Eon's arms then at seeing Kira, she threw herself from them and grabbed a gun-she fell before her feet to attempt to support their weight.

"At-least s-something still works-" Kira coughs, its over. The light fades from Grace's vision and she returns to sleep in this rain. With ease One-eyed pulled a crumbles envelope from a compartment within her 'Argument' leg and sets it inside the woman's hand. Finally she whispers something with a blood smiles that is seen, yet unseen by none and only Eon. Kira began to hack and spewed a large amount of blood as she crouches over Grace. Eon when to help, but he held his hand fast, she would not ask for it. The warriors moved past Kira and assisted the medics with treating the children-Mirandia ran to them, hesitating when passing Kira, but moving on still. Eon has a warrior pick up Grace again and cradle her carefully.

"Human nature-ceases to amaze me...even against unimagin-able odds your-r kind enjoys proving me wrong..."

Words became slurred; to think her game would end like this is not comprehendible. Eon remembers when their paths crossed, there is hardly anything that could be said now-Kira walks away.

"Is she still alive?"

"Who?"

Eon bit his tongue. "No one."

It was not expected, no, he did not see it-Kira fell on her back. Eon ran dropping to her side, not now. As he works to stop the bleeding the Reaper just chuckles, staring at the crying sky. (On my behalf...) Kira grabs Eon's head and pulls it against her breast, finally the feeling in her hand lessens and drops to the ground. (This world that is wrong...fix it.)

"It was a nice dream..."

The flight to a secured hospital took not longer than five minutes, but that was five minutes that could be used to save Julie. Mirandia refuses any priority to her health and demands to be with her child and see to it they are cared for. Down the hall a nurse screamed-all to familiar is the mask of the 'One-eyed Reaper'. Kira slid against the wall, dragging her sword behind her, using both as the means to stand for this body is broken. A trail on the wall and on the floor is left in her wake, but now Mirandia feels no fear when arming herself with nothing more than a scalpel. So be it if she is to die but Kira will join her! Kira reaches her hand and drops it on the President's head, saying nothing, she proceeds to hand Mirandia her sword and stumbles into the room.

"Take mine."

Firmly the clothing over her breast is gripped, feeling as though her heart would explode any minute if it did not get out. Kira said it again 'Take my heart and give it to this girl'. A doctor caught Kira before she fell over, knowing who this person was, but still it made no difference because she is a 'patient'. Kira spoke no more and to comply with this audacious request and is put on a slab beside the person who brought the animal back. Damon stood beside Kira and gently his tiny fingers squeeze her metallic ones. The last glimpse of human is a smile that is kind and warm and from someone who was more human than anyone on this earth.

'I used to hate humans. I felt that none of them could be trusted that if I could do this evil then so could they. I think in the end that was because I was afraid of myself. Afraid what I did, what I could do, what I was willing to do and even as I reach the end of this long endless journey. I hated myself, I hated everything that I was, but rather than reject it I used it in such a grotesque manner I knew I was not human. I detached my emotions and decided to become worse than what I hated, but I knew I had to, I knew I had to go this far, that I had to kill and fight for my survival otherwise they would lose everything again. I refuse to let that happen; so be it that I am hated, that I am cursed, even I want to be killed, but those emotions were cast aside. So how did it survive? That piece of human, how can this little boy bring out the best in the worst of anything? As he holds my hand, soaked in blood of his family, of thousands of people I made the choice to kill for my own means-he hold my hand with these tiny fingers. I denied forgiveness; I accepted this bloody curse; I accepted the demon-I guess its alright now...yes...I think...maybe I can step back. Especially since you made it possible...I can't thank you enough..., but I guess this it for me...finally.'

There was a bright light and the sound of a bell. Kira opened her eyes to the care shop she spent her childhood in. There in the booth-James, Emily, Nena, Mark, Austin, Brittany and behind her were grandfather and father. They called to her, the family and friend she killed many years ago here before her with smiling faces. Kira looked at her hand and saw they were both human and unmarked...it was wished that all was a dream.

"I'm home." 

******Chapter 26-Gaiden** **  
**

Grace awoke in a hospital, Eon sleeping beside her. He looked peaceful and cute as he slept. So beautiful this man is, so caring and loving he has been and with not an inch of selfishness. Perhaps it that he owes her-that its an obligation, but Grace hoped it was something more; its a selfish thought, she knows. The memory played in her mind: the Reaper's gaze as she knelt down and...Grace cringed. (You're not worth killing.) The bastard was alive-after a blow to her chest, but at this point nothing surprised. Where was she now? Had that devil won; taken control as she said; did she win? No...Eon would not be here had she, actually what happened after? Grace lifted her shirt and felt the bandage on her side-once again she is alive. Eon stirred, his eyes fidgeting at the aggravating sunlight. He awoke, rubbing his sleeping eyes and stretching back.

"Good morning sleeping head." He yawns.

This laid-back attitude of his she often disliked, that he never seemed to take a climax seriously. Though before the members he was inspirational and nostalgic. Neither spoke about what happened for a long while, but as Eon finished cutting an apple Grace spoke out.

"Where is she?"

"Out of either of our reaches now." Softly he answered when biting a piece.

Grace bit her lip, a clouded answer, but she did not want to violently demand an explanation. Dead. She did not believe it, even holding the broken mask, tracing the dried blood that had been sprayed by countless enemies. The 'One-eyed Reaper' could not be dead. Its too easy, no she is somewhere out there; she faked her death; that woman is immortal, she would not be killed! Grace sees that eye; evil does not die, it simply evolves, it regrets in the darkness then comes back when one least expects it-Kira Nightraven is not dead! The more Grace thought, the less it made sense-her movements were not normal. Kira was slow, her hits were not as strong as they used to be; she had no intention of killing Grace.

"It seems that both of us have finally achieved our dreams."

Grace's heart skipped a beat. They won. Kira truly is...dead. The false government has been broken, their hold over America has been severed, and as they spoke the President works to rebuild an entire nation from scratch. Eon and her are allies now, working together for a peaceful future-a real future. Grace chuckles, comprehending how in an instant her life's meaning is gone. Having been released from more than the hospital it was found two weeks have passed since the battle. Grace went to Julie's room, having been in the same hospital and gave a heart-filled apology. Not that it wasn't totally unjustified, Kira did deserve to die.

"It doesn't matter really..." Julie looks out the window when touching her chest, "She died anyway...asshole didn't even say goodbye..."

Kira gave her heart to Julie, a life for a life, but do not believe that is resumption. Not for a second believe Kira deserves mercy for a single act-one good deed does not whips away a lifetime of evil. Still Grace once again did not understand Kira's actions. If the Jackson's were also tools, why did she protect them to the point of giving up her life that she valued above anything else. Grace huffs, that is enough of wondering about a dead woman, whose spell holds no longer. The questions came nonetheless, why did Julie try to save Kira anyway, Knowing she murdered the father, why risk life to preserve that devil's?

"I hate Kira, but I can't help, but think she hated herself more."

Mirandia and Damon crossed paths with Grace and for a second they had trouble acknowledging one another. Damon saw Kira's mask and proceeded to touch it, tracing its boarder. The children of this family are quite odd because they either are too blind to see what Kira was, or they could see something the rest of the world did not. They did not know the scarlet butler was crueler than anything that walked this earth, that much is clear. Eon asked to see her in an empty apartment, some townhouse that had recently been evicted by a phantom owner. To what Eon wanted she did not know, but he sounded stern and she knew with a look he had that he was hiding something. Eon sat Grace in a chair he brought along and began.

"There is something you must know, concerning Kira Nightraven, the 'One-eyed Reaper'."

Automatically she cringed.

"I know how you feel about her, but you must listen to what I say. Whether you believe it or not is up to you, but you will hear it: the truth about Kira and about the incident five years ago."

To explain the entire truth, its easier to understand by explaining what events cause the beginning of this gaiden, this story. This cause is dating back thirty years when the war against the ISIS terrorist organization waged. The mayor of a small town had a daughter. She married a lieutenant in the Air Force, a useless and good-for-nothing boy who had no spine. Only the daughter was called to arms and soon deployed with her unit. The daughter returned in the rear of an Osprey, met by her windowed husband and a silent father. From that day forward the father vowed to protect the country in her place. Many years later he found his daughter had been betrayed by the very government that was said to protect her. Filled with anger and grief the father worked further and became head of the CIA. This man went by the name of David Shaw and along with people of the same caliber devised a plan to write the wrongs of this nation-no they would bring this corrupted government to its knees and creat a new one. In nearly three-hundred years of history all this time has been an unbearable 'stagnate time'. Surprisingly his useless son-in-law had became a colonel and was set as director of a special operations division that 'does not exist'. The boy was raising an army, but what if that could be used for the sake of the new nation. Shaw left crumbs for the boy to find, but knew he lacked a key figure-'The Dragon' is a legendary assassin whose origins are that of a shinobi school in Japan. All he needed was to be the highest better, always, putting her on a pay roll to 'work' under Edward. A few more strings to be pulled and he would finally secure his own position with President Jackson's Administration. Of course there was the matter of his close business partner-'The Hand' is an organization that was once peaceful, but their measures necessarily turned drastic in order to be acknowledged. Shaw plotted for the UN to be attacked, displaying the need for Edward's troops to be used. Things did not go as he predicted.

"If I remember correctly you were on a school trip with your class."

Grace looked at her hands, at the scars the operation caused; feeling the indents on her face from that moment. The last time Grace saw her, she was crying.

'They were in their junior of high school when the US Government class sponsored a field trip to the annual Child Development Conference. Twenty-three students and four teachers drove from Buffalo to New York to experience this event. Among them were the infamous twins Grace and Destiny Knight, who looked and sounded exactly alike. The irony is the collision of their personalities: Grace is a head-strong, but very intelligence person who tends to follow around the older twin. Destiny is stoic and acts more adult, often having a worry-free and has a light aura around her. Though the both were very devious, often bringing out the little devils to play pranks. Nonetheless both were well-liked and none hated or disliked them. Many had never left Buffalo and even fewer had been to New York City, but everyone enjoyed themselves. As expect the UN was packed and Grace eagerly jumped ahead, asking the the head of the rule all amounts of intelligent questions. Destiny just smiled and poked her twin's forehead when they passed into the General Assembly. Grace rubbed her head, feeling for certain she was the more kidding one, but it was a type of balance between the two and because of that balance they were very close. It was not enough. Not when the terrorists came, when they fired at those who opposed them; taking lives, wiring explosives-Grace dropped as the others did in fear, but Destiny put herself over Grace and refused to move then the gun was aimed at her. That was when the first fire that burned a soul. The explosion came from below first, then to the right and all followed after that. Grace saw it first, above the ceiling came down and though Destiny shielded, Grace grabbed her twin's arm, lifted her shoulder and threw the eldest away.'

"GRACE!"

'Everything went black. Slowly sense returned, but the darkness remained and it was a hot sensation from her arm, a burning pulsing that which all heat gathered and yet left in an endless cycle. Her throat felt dry, a suffocation of air caused her to cough and regain sight in an instant. The place had been engulfed in fire and smoke. Destiny glanced to the right...her eyes widen at the shaking sight of a rebar through her arm. All pain returns as she lies on a tilted remain of the ceiling.'

"Grace!"

'Nothing, she must have fallen a floor below because there is a burning hole above. Looking around the body's of classmates, mangled and scorched, makes her vomit. A horrible smell, that of burning of flesh and gas and gunpowder. Destiny attempts to pull, but blood splatters and she gives up that moment.'

"Are you alright...Destiny...?"

'The voice came from behind, she could not see and this caused panic. Again she yelled, knowing whose voice it was. (Move!) Her arm moves still, but the pain is multiplied by a thousand each time a single muscle twitches. (MOVE!) Destiny screams when pulling free, scurrying behind she trips, rolls and hits her head, but not enough to go black again.'

"GRACE!"

'She whispered, knowing if one was not calm the other must be. Destiny ran into the fallen bolder, pushing with all her strength-pushing and pushing AND PUSHING! Gracie's entire right side lies under this bolder.'

"Don't bother...my entire right side's been crushed...I-I can't even feel anything anymore."

'Destiny backed away then ran into it again and again and again AND AGAIN! It would not move. Despite the smoke Destiny screamed when thrown her fists into the ground; what is she going to do? There is always something, always a way; there's more than one choice! Grace looked at Destiny's puffy face, how swollen and red it was from crying-blood had gotten into her eye as well. (I'm sorry...) Grace lifts her hand and caresses the short raven hair the both shared. No wonder her sister did it, it was quite fun. (Now you have to live on...for me...) Grace coughs, from it blood splatters on Kira's face. Destiny sobs, asking what to do, begging God, hell even Satan to save her beloved sister.'

"I'm scared...I don't know what to do...why-why did you push me out of the way-it should have been me!" 'She grabs her sister's hand and holds it against her chest.'

"Hey now...you would have done the same...I'm just faster..."

'Grace gave a sigh, then looked up at the hole in the ceiling; glancing at the wound in Destiny's arm they were actually rather lucky-no one else seemed to be. Grace made a choice: Destiny would not leave her, but she had to leave, this place was too dangerous. Even by some miracle Grace was freed, half her body is crushed and caring for her with all these terrorists around would get her twin killed. Grace knows she's as good as dead and knew just what to get Destiny to go. Maybe if the twin got a gun then she would stand a chance, their grandfather was a veteran and taught them basic arms. A chance is better than none.'

"Remember what grandpa always told us...?" 'Destiny lies on the ground, but sat up when whipping her face.'

"Its better to be hurt than to hurt others." 'They synced together in perfect harmony.'

"I'm about...to die...you have to go...there could be others...who need your help..."

"NO WAY! NO WAY! NO WAY! I WON'T LEAVE YOU!"

'Grace slides her hand from Destiny's grip and drops it on the ground. Destiny reached for it, but Grace yells. She must live on, for the both of them-at least its a chance, a chance is hope, hope is the will to live. The remaining twin must live on and protect people who need help...that alone would...be...enough. Grace stopped talking.'

"Grace?"

'Fire cracked as it burned wood, but there was nothing else. The smoke no lover bothered her eyes and the suffocation was forgotten; the only thing was Grace. Destiny grabbed her hand, then touched her face.'

"Hey this isn't funny..." 'Destiny chuckles,' "Grace open your eyes." 'She demanded it now,' "I'm begging you open your eyes, don't leave me alone."

'Grave did not move, she did not speak, and her chest did not rise or fall. Destiny let go and grabbed her head, this could not be happening-Grace was talking just a second ago so why...Destiny screamed until her lungs gave out. Grave Knight died.' 

******Chapter 27-Kill the adversary**

"You weren't dead, but fairly close. Of course your sister didn't know that because she believed you had been killed by saving her."

Eon knew this was information was already known because Grace was there. He crosses his arms and stares at the ground.

"I couldn't begin to imagine what she was feeling at that moment. To her, you were more important than life and she couldn't do anything, but what happened next...was out of anyone's control."

'Destiny was as an empty shell, though Grace saw what happened outside she would not understand what actually occurred. She was a hollow, a person without meaning, who like many survivors trapped in the main foyer saw horrific things. Destiny did not want to be here-the sound of gun fire frightened many people and brought the lone girl back to her senses. A few, including Destiny, climbed the debris that block the exit and saw out the windows that stood no less than thirty feet from the ground. Many forgot the outside world, that it snowed and continued to throughout this nightmare. Outside heavily armed terrorists who called themselves 'The Hand' staggered around the grounds and had two people hostage. Both Destiny recognized immediately and she lunged forward-someone noticed her movement and grabbed her, pulled her back and hide the both. He tries to talk sense into her, that those men are dangerous and will kill her without hesitation. Soon the man sees the hole in Destiny's arm and proceeds to tear his shirt and wrap it tight. The man sees the look in this girl's eyes, a passionate fire that burns-despair and yet will. Hatred and rage flickered in these eyes and he knew there was no stopping her.'

"I'm going." 'Destiny said,' "I will come back, after I save my friends or I'll die trying."

'The fabric of her shirt slipped through his fingers and its easily know that she would be unchanged. An unwavering will, in spite of fear and pain and despair she still pushed on. That man found courage and gathered that of the scattered mob inside and had them work to stay alive until 'someone' comes. Destiny had taken a pistol and slid it between her belt and jeans. The people were not trapped, rather they were too afraid to leave-Destiny went to the sky bridge and out the shattered door. Keeping close to the wall she finds the ledge and finds a gap of perhaps twenty feet between the wall and a stone statue to protect her. The girl pulled out the pistol and carefully inspects its form. Grace was better at shooting than her-Destiny clenches her fist, feeling the rage spread. They killed her sister, her friends; hurt countless others and still they're allowed to live?! Its not fair! God must have forsaken her, or is punishing her for some unknown crime. Either way the odds are against her and she would have to conquer this fear to save her friends. Destiny's body would not move-it locked in place, overcome by this dead sweat of fear. Mind over matter did not matter if the mind also felt doubt. Destiny doubted her survival, doubted everything because what hope is there after seeing so much death? People gathered in large masses outside the United Nation's fence, but none entered. They could not, having this place be international grounds the police of New York could not risk starting an international crisis. Every person inside these walls were on their own and would receive no help. A scream snapped Destiny again into reality and allowed her the split-second needed to overcoming fear. It felt like a video-game she often played at home-a first-person-shooter where nothing was thought when squeezing the trigger. Now was different; fear, hesitation, doubt, all these emotions were present when she squeezed ending the life of someone who posed to kill her. It was no easier the second or third time, though she quickly adapted to the recoil of the pistol, the fact her arm had become numb made it difficult to hold it steady. The terrorists had thick armor on, making the only thing to shoot at being the helmet and at close range and even then it did little good. Her fifteen-round magazine emptied quickly and with the enemy noticing the gunfire not being their own they opened fire themselves. They were well organized and only a few returned fire while the others kept to the front.'

"Thom, I'm standing here, just outside the gates to the United Nations, where just two hours ago the building went under siege-!"

'News reporters, police and civilians alike dropped when shots fired; not warning shots they were sure. The cameraman gathered his courage and aimed the camera toward the sounds; a single person fired shots and was fired upon. Above, in a nearby apartment complex someone captures a better view and affirms the person is no more than a young woman not looking graduated from high school.'

"The devastation to the building can only be matched by how many people have been killed-!"

"Right now police are struggling to maintain order while trying to gain control over the surrounding area-"

"We've just heard gunfire, but if you look at this-oh my god Thom I think there's someone who's actually engaged the terrorists!"

'Destiny felt every bullet that touched her, every hit to the vest she wore. (Having stolen one from a terrorist who had the fortune of dying in the explosion.) Each time the wind was knocked out of her and a few times she was knocked over. Now she crouches under the wall that surrounds a stone monument in the center courtyard. Destiny pops her head to have a look and nearly looses her head for it. She is down to her last magi me and she had forgotten to count how many rounds were left. Her friends are still alive it looked, but if this dragged out they wouldn't be. Destiny let her leg stretch out and felt a sharp pain-thankfully the shot went through. She tore a piece of her pant and wrapped it around the sound tightly. The girl shrieked at the pain. The leader of this organization took notice of the elongated firefight behind him and proceeded to take hold of a hostage personally and hold the barrel of his gun to her head. Nearby was a knife, a K-bar as grandpa referred to it as, and a weapon that was more up her alley. Destiny's hearing ringed, everything around her because distant, yet easily seen. Five terrorist bodies, their thick red blood soaked the snow. That snow had a light layer of black on it, as the building that is hot burns the sky and as it fluttered back down, it covers the motionless Destiny. (I don't wanna die...) Her body felt hot, so hot that it was as suffocating as when she was inside beside Grace. (Grace...) Tears welled up for the loss of her sister, for the loss of her other half. (I don't wanna die, but I refuse to just sit here-) Destiny held her breath and stood, jumping over the wall she ran. (And watch someone else die!) Five more 'enemies' died before Destiny stopped directly in front of the leader.'

"Destiny? Destiny, what are you doing here!? Where's Grace!?"

''The Hand's' leader released the hostage and stepped forward. This young girl killed ten of his men with nothing more than a pistol and a knife. He's say that is either courageous or frightening. She was wounded from the looks of it, and quite badly, she probably came very close to the misfired explosive. Bullet wounds, fragments, broken bones no doubt and yet here she stands-barley. War and battle brings out the best and worst in people and the question is which was brought out in her? Destiny clenches her fist until they shake and grinds her teeth at the question. The leader recognized that body language easily-they killed this person called Grace. This girl named Destiny tore off her vest, feeling a pressure build in her chest that had to be released. She dropped to a knee-surprised at this sudden movement the warriors aimed their weapons, but their leader motioned them to stand-down. There on the snow this poor child coughs and soaks he pure color win her thick blood. (I can't die...) It increasingly became harder to breathe. The man who lead this ramble walked to the girl and crouched beside her.'

"This should not have happened to you." 'The leader spoke softly and kindly and Destiny could not sense a trace of evil in him. The man rose his hand and touches the girl's shoulder. It is there policy to eliminate any who oppose them, but this child can hardly move-painless mercy is all that can be given now.'

"Please...let them go..."

'Her breath is faint and shallow, no doubt a lung has been punctured. She suffered unimaginable pain for her friends...but it cannot be done. To sacrifice the few to save the many, that is what must be done 'now' to ensure it will not be so in the future. The man shook his head sorrowfully, having his knife at the ready.'

"Fine-" 'She gave a hateful glare,' "Then I'll kill you first."

'He respects the will of a warrior, an man bound by honor. The leader stood and went to a nearby warrior, drew the sword from their back and threw to. Beside Destiny, finally he drew his own and prepared for combat.'

"So be it."

'Destiny slipped when trying to stand; breathlessly she reached for the sword and used it to push up. The struggle almost overwhelmed her mind's will to stand, but it did not and Destiny found herself standing. Her body felt heavy, this sword made things worse and she was quite sleepy, yet the fear of closing her eyes kept them open. The city fell silent-watching helplessly as this one girl bet her life on fighting for her friends. They heard her name as it was shouted in the sky; the name felt as heavy as the girl's body and would not yet pass the lips of any outside the gates. She gripped the sword with both hands, recalling her early years of kendo. The man traces the snow with the tip of his blade, then stretched it back.'

"I am Eon Bhattacharya, what is your name?"

"Destiny...Knight."

"Well Destiny Knight, may you pass from this life to the next with peace."

'Eon smiles, what a kind-hearted person she is. Destiny felt a out of it and hardly heard what he said, but given what she could see he didn't have the body language to be insulting.'

"Destiny stop!"

'It was too late for regret, too late to stop, the only thing to do was run. Destiny could not stop once she started, could not let to once she gripped that sword-she didn't want any of this. Her friend's pleas fell on deaf ears, Destiny would not hear it. Their first collision produced sparks, her strength surprised him. Given her state had they met on different terms he would have wanted her to fight beside him. Eon pushed her off, Destiny staggered back, regained her footing then blocked a side attack with the parallel of the sword. He slides his sword forward, takes a sharp thrust left and nips Destiny's shoulder. She instinctively jumped back, tripped and flipped on her back into the snow. Quickly, without the realization that Eon had given her a chance, the cornered animal scurried back up swinging and caught Eon's cheek. Again she coughs violently, turning to hacking blood and feeling the burning in her chest. The sword is brought down, hard, Destiny hit it away-Eon spun around and hit her sword the opposite way, from the low stance he swiped the tip up and carved her left eye. Destiny lost her footing and hit the ground, grabbing her throbbing eye-it was mangled beyond recognition, but the blood made it too difficult to know if she was blinded. Eon relaxed his arm and traced the cut on his cheek; to think she had a reflex like that. Spitting more crimson, Destiny swung back, scurried back to her feet and thrusted the sword numerous times. Eon avoided them and at an opening another knife was brought out-Destiny caught a glimpse and bounced her head back, but the blade came much later than expected, like a time-skip or delay. It was not enough to avoid having an entire sword shoved through her heart. (Wh...) The hostages scream, but nothing was heard. She looked at her chest as her fingers became numb and lost their power to grip the sword. *Bump-bum* It doesn't even hurt-Eon yanked his sword out canceling the last thought. He orders the hostages to be secured and for the remaining twenty-three warriors to ensure no one else come from the building. *Bump-bum* *Bump-bum* Destiny dove face first, watching time become the longest moment as she hit the ground.'

"I don't know what to say..."

"It seems that the young girl who started this firefight has ceased moving..."

'Many news stations cut feed to the carnage, seeing it too graphic, while others challenged it viewers to watch. A girl who fought to save two people...her blood soaks the snow, tainting its pure-white to thick crimson. (Dammit...) Her fingers twitch, then the only usable hand moves some; she reaches for her friends who are so far away, who call to her, yet she cannot hear. (If only I was faster...) Her eye lids grew increasingly heavy and it found that black begins to cloud her only seeing eye. *Bump-bum* *Bump-bum* *Bump-bum* Destiny stretches her hand, but after another cough the energy is completely drained. (I'm sorry Grace...) Her chest fell silent.'

"I did not want to kill her, in fact I did everything to avoid doing so, but the longer we fought the harder it became to avoid that end. Your sister just would not stay down."

Grace chuckles, that brought some happiness at least. Destiny had always been that way, she never wanted to back down. That determination is what the younger twin envied, its what she found at the last second that helped protect her elder self. What the one does not the other does, it is a bond that they have had since before birth. Eon takes a slight pause in this story and gets a drink stored ahead of time and passes it to the listener.

"Eon why are you telling me this? I know how the story ends-"

'Destiny's body arose like a monster from a movie, but her 'mind' was not present. Blood dripped from her lips like a vampire having sucked the rarest of prey dry. It did not seem she savored this metallic taste because she wore a hateful expression. Without a second thought, without any thought, the animal drove her sword into the first it could ensnare. She roared to the burning heavens, bringing fear to every person who lied safely outside the walls. The demon went on a rampage. She made ribbons of throats and trophies severed heads, refusing the mercy of a quick death. The hostages mattered little now because her mind that worried of them was no longer around. They are taken to a stone monument in the courtyard's center, roughly forced behind as a safety precaution. Eon watched how she ravaged his comrades yet did nothing, only watched with an even greater fear than the crowd's. He looked into the eyes of the animal and rather than seeing a frightened girl, just wishing to protect her friends, he sees something that could not possibly be real. For an instant Eon thought he saw an image of a Grim Reaper. A grenade is thrown, but at the same moment the thrower's hand is removed. (Five) The grenade losses course and bounces toward the students. (Four) She saw this from the corner of her eye and changed direction with a single pivot. (Three) The girls stop with their backs to the monument. (Two) An exist job crippled the stone tower and sent its upper section over toward the direction of the crowd. Dust and ash and snow obscure everyone's vision.'

"Still no sign of the young girl who further engaged the terrorists. Unlike before she seems more tactile-"

"Police are now evacuating everyone with five blocks of the United Nations Headquarters-"

"We received reports saying that depending on the state of the young girl, they may not be able to evacuate surviv-"

'People sucked their heads under their arms when running. The explosion sent rock and rumble over the fence, but few posed a threat. The girls opened their eyes, after the realization that they are alive found its way to consciousness. A shadow, darker than the stone, loomed over them. The girls felt cramped and coughed with the dust caught in their lungs and as it settles the light is shone on the shadow.'

"Why...?"

'Her voice shook because Destiny threw herself between the stone and the girls and saved them from being crushed. Blood trickled down the shield's head and dropped on the face of the only verbal. She touches her friend's ravaged face-Destiny isn't here...yet she protects her friends. Both the girls saw the tears that came from a blank expression. They know this person perhaps even better than her sister did...but what good does it do now! Despite what she wants, Destiny made the choice, the only one she would accept, to cast aside her desires for the sake of others and now has been driven to such a state. Not a single words came from her, rather the girls could see that Destiny's body is moving on instinct and its know because there was no recognition in those eyes.'

"-em...mu...st...I...will...save...them..."

'Color returned to her eyes and for a second Destiny had returned from the jaws of death. That fire of light flickers though and again she was gone, replaced by a vengeful animal who lifts herself up and pushes the rock from above them. The light breaks through much of the dust and shows fully the s stems of her damaged body-the right arm had been burned and embedded with fragments from all objects. Without a word she left the girls and proceeded to pick up her sword and continue the slaughter. Bullets would not stop her, the warriors could not bring her down and this one-sided fight continued until only two remained.'

"What are you?"

'Destiny swung with brute force, easily overwhelming a shaken leader. He thrusted toward her face, hoping to take her head, but it was as though she has seen through that trick before he even moved. The sword flew beside her head, Destiny grabbed his arm and ripped her blade down his chest. Eon dropped and had he not worn his armor he would be in two pieces by now. Destiny spun the sword in her hand then aimed its edge at Eon's chest-its thrusted down and driven through Destiny's right thigh.'

"No...more."

'Pain returned to her with a vengeance, a reasonable price to pay in exchange for this. Breathing now was reduced to half-hales that sounded as a tube with a loud leak. Destiny yanks the sword from her thigh and yells when babying it. Everything has been intensified since returning to consciousness and regardless of the cost her friend were alive and safe.'

"I am your enemy; I killed your Grace and many others yet you spare me. Why?"

'This girl is irrational and illogical because what person refuses revenge, or 'justice' in from their point-of-view. Eon noticed that she looked away from him and to the crowd, they were no more than fifty yards and still these damn Americans have yet to lift a finger to help this poor child. He would rather see faith in humanity restored than to watch this brave girl suffer my longer and for him to be killed even. Her eyes hold emotion again, hold soul again; fear, worry, anger pain, all that was voided into nothingness a moment ago has been restored. Eon gazes at the state of her body, any normal person should be crying or passed out from the pain and though she exhibits sigh of having intense pain her mind has yet to give into it. How can one person to so far for the sake of two 'friends'?'

"Killing people-is a sin. I've already-become something I'm not. Grace...would hate me if I killed an unarmed man; enemy or not."

'Destiny threw the sword aside and offered the only feeling hand to help Eon to his feet. How can someone just let go of hatred and anger...she was about to achieve revenge yet she forced herself to snap back-it was to 'save' him. As the girl helped him to the gate he carefully monitored her movements: half her body is probably already in shock and the rest either numb or in unimaginable pain.'

"You are a very strange girl you know." 'His chest throbs.'

"Don't get me wrong-I won't forgive-ya for what-'ve done. I had-every intention of killing you..."

"Yet you didn't." 'Eon looks at Destiny's apologetic face.'

'He understood her reasoning, she was no killer in fact she seemed the type that hated fight all together, but not all was his fault. Could it be fate that she and he met, that she should rise to the occasion? To kill is to sin, but what if it is to kill to save a life? In the order's case it was different, it was to prove they were right, to open the eyes of the people. Poor girl just wanted to save her friends. Destiny could tell Eon was not whole-heartedly evil because not only did he not fight back, he also took the time to talk. What an odd terrorist, yet it still does not excuse killing all these innocent people.'

"I don't-want to kill anymore...besides..."

Both knew her blood left a bold trail as they walked to the gate. Eon was handed to the authorities, but Destiny would not go, not yet. Her friends had not moved and not knowing what happened before she snapped back it was assumed her friends would be frightened of her. One girl succumb to shock and lied on the ground while the other lifted her legs.'

"Please don't look at us like that."

'She whipped the tears before Destiny would notice. Her friend that just risked her life to save them and killed to protect hem, she cannot wear such a sorrowful look, as though they would think her a monster.'

"We're friends aren't we? So we have to stick together, no matter what."

'Destiny smiles lightly, relaxing her stiff muscles. She came beside the girl in shock and picked her up, cradling her tiny body. Its time for them to go. Destiny gave the girl to a paramedic and the other soon followed. It took her a time to notice that Destiny was not behind her. She turned to watching her friend as she shut the gate behind them. The police grabbed her, preventing her from going back. Destiny never planned on going with them from the start.'

"Sorry...Sara...I can't go..."

'Those that watched fell into the same solace that Sara felt. The news anchors had nothing to say because the video they watched was indescribable. Destiny's body felt cold and heavy, like the only thing that pushed her body was because of her will to save her friends and now that it has been done...everything was shutting down. (Just a little further.) She thought when forcing this already dying body to move. Inside there were still people to be saved, still people...alive. Destiny collapsed. (Dying is really painful, but it's less than I deserve. Still...thank you...for saving them...)' 

******Chapter 28-God of Death** **  
**

Grace fell silent because the story had ended. Its over, the complete, Destiny died and that was when it was over. One-eyed said she was responsible, she said that was when she came about, but the demon is dead and so of course its thought that what was said were all lies. That's all the One-eyed ever did, one lie after the next, maybe even she became lost in her own lies at some point. Grace never wondered about One-eyed's reasoning, never about what she wanted, only that she killed her family and thousands of others and would pay-she did pay. Eon was far from done, he only told of Destiny...at least the part everyone thinks they know.

"What do you know about the 'One-eyed Reaper', about Kira Nightraven?"

"I know no one will miss her." A snarled response combined with an arrogant snicker. So much for the big bad demon. Eon looked down.

"How much do you trust me?"

Gracie's face grew red. "That's a stupid question." She mumbled shyly, "You've never lied to me so I have no reason not to."

Eon would not look her I. The eye because he was afraid. Afraid Grace would hate him, afraid she would hate herself, but above all he was afraid of what the truth would do to her. She hates Kira, but when she finds out...hell Eon doesn't even know what to make of it.

"That day...Destiny didn't die."

'Thanks to his contact, Eon had ease in escaping federal custody. Yet as he felt his chest, he found it had become hollow-an emptiness in his heart that was filled by the compassion of his foe; gone. From the beginning he never trusted his 'partner', he knew their secrets, but one in particular was most disturbing: 'demons'. Shaw would betray him, he was sure of it, but not before it was done to him first. There was very limited data on this project, therefore he decided to singlehandedly journey into Hell. First he would discover what they guard so carefully, in the the lowest level of this facility and then he would destroy it! What he found shook him to his core, and brought an alien sense of happiness as well. There laying in a medi-tube was Destiny-alive. Eon looked many times, believing his eyes were deceiving him, but alas they did not. Destiny Knight seemed in no better condition than when the last they spoke nearly two months ago. Bandages covered over her left eye; around her shoulder and chest and most of all around the stub of a right arm; oxygen flows in through a mask, but still he can hear the gargling breathing. To his further surprise, she had healed far more than to be expected; most of her body had suffered burns and lacerations after all. Eon jumped when she spoke, expecting her to be under or break dead, but of course he though her dead until now.'

"Don't you have some other half-dead person to bother."

'Eon shamefully walked over, starring mainly at her missing limb. Destiny chuckles slightly at how he looked, poor man feels horrible. He looked at the projected screen and saw what had been done to existence her life. Still it is no short of a miracle that she even made it outside the UN. A terrorist who feels remorse for what he's done, Destiny huffed at the irony.'

"I'm...sorry this happened to you. You didn't deserve this, any of it and if you wish me dead then I will deliver my life to you once I've finished my goal."

'Destiny lifted her hand and reached across her chest to pole his forehead. He's like a child that has gotten into trouble and that reminded her of her sisters. Her hand drops back down and Destiny inhales as much as she could.'

"I will not forgive you, but maybe you could change my mind."

'Eon's mode heightened, anything he could do he would to make up for her suffering if only to make it easier.'

"My sister, Grace..." 'Eon's heart sank,' "Is alive and here somewhere-take her from this place."

'It had happened before, pitting siblings unknowing against one another to determine who is the strongest. It is a mental plot to force the survivor into an emotionless and aggressive state-theoretically; theoretically it was a practice done in feudal Japan. Only a single person is said to survive to this day that continues the practice. Destiny explained that she has been aware for over a month, but only recently became able to move and speak. The people of the facility do not know that she has become aware and thus learned much about the coup. What could she hope to do against them? They saved her sister, but planned to integrate her into this 'Demon Program' and much the same for Destiny should she be able. That cannot happen! Eon stood for a while and finally spoke-spoke the honest truth about her government and his order. Though their ways to go about it differ, the two parties genuinely wish for 'peace'. The girl did not care about the UN any longer, it happened and nothing would change it. These people plan to kill her family off as well, to further convince them of 'The Hand's' evil.'

"Promise me...you will protect them, I'm begging you please."

'Eon and Destiny formed a shaking alliance. One would stay and play the part of their puppet and from inside would draw out the leaders of this coup and destroy it. Eon hated this plan, he hated it because he knew that above all else Destiny could not stand taking a life. She already hated herself and now more than ever she became willing to throw away her life to protect her sister and family. Destiny and Eon decided Grace would go with 'The Hand', Destiny knew she would, and would become strong and help destroy this oppressive government. It was because she knew Grace so well that this would not work it Grace did not have a face to follow, a reason to hate this government more than anyone else. The eldest would become the object of revenge, the murderer of Grace's family and the cause of great evil. No matter what they would do to her it would be for the sake of her sister. At the time it was a nice dream. Grace would fight for the sake of justice while Destiny would become the tyrant who corrupts.'

"Alive...my sister is alive!? You never told me-!"

Grace jumped from her seat and grabbed Eon by the shirt, throwing him to the wall. Her sister, her Destiny is alive so why would she come out? Why wouldn't she say-a sudden memory flashed in her mind. Always there, always a target, always causing suffering, always, always...always...Grace let go. Her sister could not possibly, she isn't capable of something like that. She isn't like that.

"Hey...you're lying right? I mean you watched my Destiny die, she died to save our friends..."

'Destiny pretended to wake in fear and confusion. The beginning of a long list of lies. She fooled them into believing a depression-like state, into thinking that she knew nothing and would become their puppet. A nurse tended to her every need of recovery. Of course the staff knew nothing except that this girl had been involved in a horrible accident that killed her entire family. Destiny lost her left eye, her right arm; her right lung became artificial and her right leg function little due to a severed tenant. Amy Richardson and Destiny spoke much, but for an unknown reason everyone was kept out of the girl's personal information. A rumor spread that the girl talked to herself when alone and thus was called 'demon'. She heard these rumors and laughed them off, welcoming the nickname. As predicted Destiny was told her family had been killed, by none other than 'The Hand'. Typical, soon Destiny separated herself from the staff, refusing help and while most of the staff obliged this demand, was the only one who continued. Eventually the director, a Colonel, met with Destiny and offered a chance to 'help this country'. Not long after an Asian woman entered the room with him, yet said nothing. Destiny quickly began to ignore the Colonel and turned her attention to the woman who emitted a sinister aura.'

"I like this one, she has a very nice look in her eyes. I have no doubt the little demon will agree."

'Destiny did and underwent the first stage of argumentation. Her body was modified to live without life-support; functioning under extreme conditions and to have enhanced physical capabilities. Such pain had been compared to her experience at the UN. Destiny retained her sanity during the surgery and kept her goal in mind. Like the other Demons she would be broken down mentally and built back up to be an emotionless soldier and who better than the legendary 'Dragon' herself? At first the woman appeared to perform harmless tasks, but quickly this changed, resulting in Destiny being chained to a chair in a large single-window and door room. This place became her Hell.'

(For weeks Dragon tortured me. At the beginning she had me count down from one thousand by sevens and at the time I had no idea why she wanted me to do this. As my nightmare continued I realized she did it to keep me as sane as possible and I found myself clinging to those numbers. Over and over and over AND OVER AND OVER SHE CARVED INTO MY BODY! It never ceased, constantly I healed, I had my bones broken one after the next and every time I felt them crack and snap into place again.)

"Don't worry, I'm only going to half-kill you. If you die its because of your own weakness."

(She subjugated me to untold numbers of torture and I knew when none of them would come or even what they looked like because of the blindfold I wore. Dunked in water with a bag over my head; my fingers crushed under her boot; my shoulder was dislocated twice already, and I'm sure she's stabbed my chest. Nothing was the same, everyday she had a new way to hurt me, a new way to break my mind little by little. None of it was enough to kill me because she would leave for an unknown amount of time for me to heal then begin again. My sense of pain dulled over a while, forcing her to bring out more violent and agonizing methods.)

"I wonder, at this point, if you even remember your name."

('Dragon' asked me this and the answer never changed-I was nobody, I didn't want to be anybody.)

"My little demon I must admit: aside from your body, your mind is extremely resilient. The most so in all my years of my art, but I wonder...how much more can you endure?"

(I heard moans, then her footsteps came closer and closer and I found how much I really feared her to be true. 'Dragon' untied my blindfold and allows it to slid into my lap. My heart skipped a beat-there in front of me were my father and grandfather. They were gagged, but could see me? Could see the state I was in-Eon either lied or failed to keep them safe. The one who created my Hell smiled softly as she reached around my mangled shirt, then wove her hands under it.)

"You said they died..."

"No Edward said, I happened to keep them alive, just for this occasion. Now lets see if you can continue to endure...tell me, which one do I kill?"

(She wants me to choose between my grandpa and dad? What the hell is this?)

"Left or right? The old man or the young man? Your father or your grandfather? Choose quickly or I'll kill them both."

('Dragon' pulled her arms away from me and drew a gun, flashing it to make it known to me. How can I possibly choose between these two? Wait...where is Faith? Where is the youngest, where is their precious little sister? What did they do to her-I pull against my chains and when I did 'Dragon's' eye lite up.)

"You and I are very much like." 'She giggles,' "We killed for the sake of survival, but then it became pleasure. Though you feel guilt and pity for those you've killed."

"I'm nothing like you! I hated killing those people; killing is wrong, its evil-"

"Then what does that make you?"

('Dragon' aimed the barrel at my grandfather's head.)

"Then let me word it this way...which one will you 'save'?"

"I can't choose between them! Its like I'm killing them, so if you're going to kill anyone, kill me!"

(Her eyes dropped down in disappointment as I balled my eyes out. Then what does that make me? If it was anyone else would I be able to choose, or is it because their my family that I can't? She's right though, I have killed people, and I did it to protect them, but after Eon stabbed me it was nothing, but survival. I'm a killer, but the difference is I don't do it for sport, I'm not a murderer! What about my family though? I can't get free, I can't save them, I can't do anything so is sacrificing one to save the other even saving them at all? It doesn't matter does it! I'm going to end up killing them aren't I?)

"Choose."

"I can't."

"Then my little demon, my little killer, they die."

"JUST KILL ME THEN!"

"No you must choose. Life is about choices and its impossible to have both; that is reality!"

"I WON'T! I WON'T! I WON'T! IF I DO, I WON'T BE HUMAN ANYMORE!"

('Dragon' looked at me with disgusted, like i had done something wrong!)

"My little demon, what make you think you're still human? Why do you think you're so special? Don't be so conceited, everything that happened to you was merely one coincidence after the next." 'Dragon' had enough of this false personality, where is that animal that tore hearts out of people's chest!?

"You're precious sister who leaped in the way for you, don't you think you really sacrificed her to save yourself? What about those 'friends' of yours? You saved them because you were afraid of failing and thus it was nothing more ban a selfish act. Your father and grandfather will die because you don't want to have 'their blood' on 'your hands'...you may fool them, but not me."

(An entire clip is emptied into my grandfather and then into my father, and for the life of me, I swore father cursed me. I screamed at watching them die the. Felt every break, every cut, every rip in my soul until my blood flooded the floor. 'Dragon' began to leave me to stare at the bodies of my family and eventually have my senses fade into oblivion.)

"You're going to die down here. Whether you lose you're mind or not is up to you."

"993...986...979...972..."

(God has abandoned me. He has left me to die here, alone and without any comfort. This undying body of mine is a prison, my mind is fading and I can't even say I have a soul anymore-that was eaten away the moment I killed someone for myself. Rather I gave it up and still I feel alone, even with them beside me. There is no God, only demons and soul hunters that seek only their own means. I feel my sense of 'self' slipping; being replaced with something that isn't me. My body constantly spasms because I am afraid; afraid to die, afraid of what I will endure next, hell I can't even remember how I ended up here? 'Dragon' has a habit of cracking her fingers with her thumb and by now, its the only tell-tale sign I have that she is satisfied with me for the day. What was my name again? I think it started with a D? I mean 'little demon' doesn't seem quite right...wait what am I talking about again? Ah I know, the master is here isn't she, ? I see her more often now, a woman with long white hair that flows like silk down her back and eyes as yellow are gold. As always she's in black dress pants and a blouse, with heels having a cute bow on the front. She visits me and when she does I don't hurt anymore, so I know she is good. I feel like I've seen her before, but like everything as I can hardly tell the difference.)

"Look what you've been degraded to. You, who gave everything for 'friends'."

"Fr-ends?"

(I know this word, I know its meaning. But when I look for faces, they are blank. There was another thing, also that started with 'f', but what?)

"You can no longer recall your own name. How cruel the humans have been to you."

( vanished when master returned, but for some reason she didn't look happy, but rather annoyed. Master set her gun on the table beside me)

"Since you had forgotten yours I was going to call you 'Kira'. Where I was born it meant 'dark' or 'killer'-rather ironic, don't you think?"

(The master is not her usual self, she is relaxed and wears a weary look on her face-what can she be tired from? Master is always happy when hurting little demon so why does she seem sad? Everything is my fault, I don't know why, but I know it is. Master left and came back-I don't know why I called her that, but I feel the name fits for some reason. My eyes are heavy, I want to go to bed now.)

"Destiny wake up."

(Miss. Bones put her hand on my head, then dropped it to my cheek as she placed her forehead against mine. Why is everyone so sad?)

"Please tell me you haven't forgotten Grace..."

"Gra...ce...?"

(I know that name, I know who it is...my sister! I have to remember, remember her face, remember why I'm here-something doesn't feel right, I feel a twitch a starvation for something, but what!?)

"I don't think...I can do this...the way I am now. Its better to be hurt than to hurt others, what bullshit."

(She is my reaper, the one who was suppose to ferry my soul onto the next world-whichever it is. At least that what my head keeps telling me. God doesn't exist and neither do reapers, only the demons that are humans. All I'm doing at his point is talking to myself-honestly I'm sure I've already past insane. Company is nice.)

"There is no shame in giving up-"

"Shut up!"

"She right though...if this continues you will die down here. Even if you do survive, your body will give out-"

"It doesn't matter! If I die it will be when I say so! No one is going to control my life, is going to take away my Grace! This world...I don't care about it anymore!"

(If only I had been faster, if only I had seen it sooner then Grace wouldn't have-my eyes are finally open to the truth: in this world, kindness does nothing. It breeds pain, that which gives birth to anger and finally hate-and its their fault! I will change this corrupted world, I will bring it down to its knees all for her sake. I don't care who I have to kill, who I have to murder; I will create that world, but it will be 'my' way!)

"You're willing to forsake a path of light?"

"I am!"

"Even if it means losing your humanity?"

"Even that!"

"Even if it means your sister hating you?"

"Even that!"

"Even if it means killing everyone who stands in your way?"

"EVEN THAT!"

(My Reaper places her hand over my blinded eye and smiles. Hurry before I forget myself again, before the 'master' returns and I truly loss everything.)

"Good girl. You understand that kindness is nothing, but weakness and in this world the strong will use that to their advantage. Now will you abide by someone like 'Dragon'?"

"I won't!"

"What if you're wrong?"

(I pulled on my chains and glared at her. What was been done to me was monstrous, so they created a monster.)

"I'm not wrong! This world is wrong!" 

******Chapter 29-Death is Salvation** **  
**

Her devil returned in an agitated state. In two months her little demon has made no progress and has in fact been broken 'too much'. The Colonel has decided to terminate her and move onto the other twin. This method would not be tried again, seeing that if the one who went on a rampage could not succeed, then the other would not. A more conventional way will be attempted next, simple and dull teaching and learning. It was fun while it lasted, but the game is over-pity.

"It would seem our fun is over. I doubt you can understand me, but Edward says you have no further use. A shame, I was close to involving your twin sister in this." 'Dragon' smirks, "Oops I wasn't suppose to say that, oh well, cats-out-of-the-bag now."

The one-armed prisoner said nothing, probably by now she's dead or brain-dead at least. Her hair which was short and raven black has now completely turned white-probably a side-effect of 'Argumentation' or simply malnutrition, resulting in loss of pigment. She cracks a finger and draws her weapon from it holster. 'Dragon' smirks clicking the hammer back. Its too bad it has to end this way, she hoped her little demon would act as the child she never had-a perfect image of herself.

"Hilarious...you really are an inconsequential woman aren't you?"

'Dragon' jumped, feeling something very dark come from the back of her mind. She acted calm and smirked then aiming the weapon at the prisoner's head, yet her hands shook. The little demon leg breaks free and kicks 'Dragon's' knee, forcing her to the ground and misfire to a nearby pipe. The pipe blows smoke making visibility difficult.

"Try it."

'Dragon' dodges a hand that came at her face then threw its owner who disappeared in the smoke. On the ground a piece of the prisoner's chain slides to the devil's feet. During the struggle her weapon had been knocked out, which proved to be an inconvenience. Its quite a surprise that she is able to move like this, especially with one arm. She knows its impossible for her to be 'conscious' because to attack someone in this pattern is beyond her kind-hearted nature. The little demon cannot possible be capable of to this degree-what she felt before her leg became free is something true my evil. From behind she attacked, straight-forward, usually such a thing would be easy to block, but a sudden shift in position and fighting style through the 'Dragon' off. These movements were not organized, they were not meant for anything-they changed every second no matter what she did. The pouncing girl is grabbed and thrown again, just as visibility is regained. The prisoner retaliated and jumped, bringing her leg toward 'Dragon's' head-its grabbed and twisted violently.

"Don't underestimate me!"

The captures spun around in 'Dragon's' grasp and kicked her into a wall. With a blank expression she stares at the devil.

"You think after everything, something like 'that' will hurt?" She cracks a finger, "Now..." A sinister grin is drawn, "Its 'my' turn!"

Every movement she made was seen through. There was not anything that came as a surprise as she fought the little demon. It was as though this girl could predict what moves would come next. 'Dragon's' heart skipped a beat-the eye which had been lost, the one which was carved away and down her face is opened. There an unexpected phenomena: her sclera which is naturally white is now darker than black and her iris once green, now a sinister yellow. The little demon finally seized 'Dragon' by the neck and thrusted her in the air.

"What's one-thousand minus seven?"

'Dragon' squirms struggling with all her might to get away. This thing is insane! She's thrown into the ground, breaking a leg. The demonized girl cracks another finger and continues to wear a malevolent smile.

"I'll ask again...what's one-thousand minus seven?"

A rib is broken. Unlike the 'Dragon' she will be different and by different she means in only minor aspects. Her hip is broken-'Dragon' seizes her missing weapon and fires. It did not miss its target, its target merely moved to evade it, resulting only in a small scratch. The legendary assassin no longer can hold her title-she had never felt this before; what is this feeling? What is this darkness that closes in on her? Before her, emendating from the back of this yellow-eyed demon, is an image of the Death himself!

"What's one-thousand minus seven!?"

Again she is lifted up and thrown to the ground, over and over and over AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN!

"993...986...979..."

'Dragon' cried, for the pain was more than she had ever felt, even more so than the first. Another finger is cracked. In a desperate attempt to preserve her life, 'Dragon' attacked-her face was taken by the demon and thrusted into the glass window behind. With such force the three-inch thick glass cracked and shaped around the 'Dragon's' head. She spoke no longer, but her body twitches twice before slumping to the floor.

"I like the name 'Kira'."

Armed guards burst through the door and surround half the room.

"Kira Nightraven, that's who I am...a 'One-eyed Reaper'."

Chapter 30-Two souls

Destiny was Kira...no Kira ate 'Destiny'. Eon saw the look in her eyes when they met, those eyes were of two separate people. One was a killing intent that would sacrifice anything for the sake of her goal and the other was the fragment of what was left of the 'human' Destiny. For years Eon kept the part of the promise he could, in hopes that the sisters may be reunited one day. Years went by and as he watched what Kira became he lost the hope that even the part that was 'Destiny' even existed, that is until they spoke. 'It was a nice dream' and the same smile she wore when they parted at the UN; the persona that was 'Destiny'...there is no way to tell if she true my felt as she said, but it felt that the two people were merely two sides of the same coin. Accepting disgrace is the place of honor, hate in the place of love and still she died with a smile on her face. There is no doubt in his mind that Destiny, if she was alive, never wanted Grace to know the truth. She likely did not know Eon believed the, Kira calculated every step, every action her puppets would take and control the result from there. Brilliant would be a miss-understanding, she was a genius in the art of war, a god in the shadows. Whether she was Kira or Destiny it made no difference-she wasn't wrong. Not in her mind, looking at everything she has done this was the only choice and she took it because it was a 'chance'. Grace has yet to speak, she could not; processing the fact that she has been fighting her twin sister all these years may be too much.

"You didn't kill truly...she meant for you to kill her from the very beginning." Eon felt the soft envelope as he traces its edges in his pocket, "Even you must have noticed the strangeness in her movements-"

"You're lying! Kira-she couldn't be Destiny-'my Destiny' would never kill innocent people! Kira was my enemy, my target she tried to kill me!"

"If she was serious about killing you, you'd be dead."

Grace had never killed someone before. Eon knew that Kira had information on her whereabouts and her missions and me shred that her sister would never take a life...not even hers. Do to the strain on her body Kira suffered everyday an long and agonizing existence. The only reason Kira's body functioned as it did was because of machines, but machines cannot stop organic tissue from decaying. Her body attacked itself in rejection to the 'Argumentation' procedure which dramatically shortened her year-she used drugs to extend her life, but knew it was only a matter of time. Coughing up blood; everyone believed she had received a wound in battle, when it was a disease she dealt with for years. Kira planned on deceiving the world by bring down the corrupted government in silence and leaving publics to Eon. Deceiving Grace the plan was to become the central object of all evil and to have all hatred directed toward her. It would be hard of the common to see, but everything she did was for the great good of the world and her sister. Kira understood that if the world were to know the truth about their governments that they would turn on each other and more people would die. Walking alone on her path, who could blame her if she lost sight of her original goal? Who would dare blame her for baton the world, for hating humans and renouncing her own humanity? Kira planned to die as a villain and not as a kind-hearted person who hated fighting. Pushing people away, shaking their belief in her, all the more easier for her to make the right choice in the end. Maybe she was afraid, that's why she took on this world's darkness alone. Afraid for others who would fall into the darkness as she did, or simply she knew no one else could make the 'hard decisions'. Grace clenches her fists until they shook. He told her for a reason because Kira, no Destiny, deserved for at least one person to love her. He doesn't care what she wants, she took on the world and has no right to dictate what he does-she no longer has the right to control their fate. Grace left the house with Eon trailing behind her. There were two notes and a single card in the envelope he held; one to himself and the one to Grace and the last to a woman named Amy Richardson. They parted ways. Eon was alone and decided to take a stroke around the Smithsonian. He found a be ch under a tree across the 'National History Museum' and sat in its shade. The letter is opened and read:

'I should've killed you when I had the chance. I'm glad I didn't...you make her cry and next time I will.  
-D'

Damn her. Eon wipes the tears from his face as he chuckles. Damn you Destiny Knight and your selfishness to help others. Damn you for your kind-heart; for your will protect people and for your unwavering heart.

The card read '11227 Richard Ave London, England'. She did not know what to expect and neither did Eon. He explained Kira left this with her and as to its significance he could not tell, after all, Kira never told him anything. Grace refused to believe that her sister was the 'One-eyed Reaper' the world's enemy. She is probably at this address waiting for Grace, wanting to settle the score-Reaper cannot die. From a the outside this street seems like an ordinary place, filled with children and families. Under her trench coat is a ballistic vest an an innumerable about of weaponry and ammo-enough to bring down a small army. For a moment there was hesitation in knocking on the door. There could be explosives; the moment she enters she could be shot; Kira could be waiting to pounce from behind. Finally the courage is mustered to knock, yet her hand is steady on her M9. An aged woman comes to the door with a light smile, alarmed at the scars the visitor had.

"May I help you?"

A thick-English accent made it easy to distinguish her nativity. Grace was speechless.

"Are you lost miss?"

"Mom! Who's at the door?"

A young girl came to the door. She had thick raven-black hair, blue as sea eyes and her father complexion...their father's complexion.

"Faith?" 

******Chapter 31-Memories of Nobody** **  
**

Thirteen years later 

"I'm going to put this on your sister's grave, you don't mind do you?"

Lately the world has been a bit brighter. Maybe its because of this peace or even that there's simply been no fighting. What difference does it make? This world has been climbing toward a grand future of hope and prosperity. Outside of a select few, no one is aware of the horrible darkness that almost was-just as it should be. From the ashes of hatred and evil came light and love all because of the sacrifice of the 'Fallen Generation', as it had been called. Fifteen years can change a person, for better or for worse. To the day all of the former pawns have gathered in recognition of the owner of the crystal coffin. This person had been placed here in hopes that one day she would return, or that she may forever be kept safe from the ravages of time. It was a beautiful grave, how the human-sized crystals formed around her, locking her in an ageless state. The owner of the crystal would remain here for all time, her location and identity kept hidden from the known world and her memory would one-day fade into oblivion, just as she wanted. Gathering in reminiscence, each enjoyed the other's company and there was no ill will for what had been in the past. One-day the young ones would be told this tale, and then onto their children and their children's children until history became legend and her legend become a myth. The children were watched by the eldest.

"I remember when Eon's men came and saved me before Shaw's got me too."

Faith was with those men for nearly three months, no reason, no news about her dad and grandpa-until a masked woman showed up and took her. Back then she did not know it was Destiny, her elder sister, but from the beginning she never had a fearful feeling. Destiny explained Faith would be adopted and that her family had passed away in a car accident. As a promise Destiny explained that Faith could not ever speech of her family or the ties to the Knights.

"You know her mask...I actually drew a picture before she left...kinda da reminded be of an old manga I read."

The protagonist was a young man who had many horrible events befall him, but he never lost his will to protect those he loved...he just did it his own way. Destiny's hair had been pure white and much longer, making the realization of her impossible. Faith drew a picture of a mask that related closely to the fact she had one eye bandaged over. Though she watched this person who saved her, kill thousands of people, not once did she think the woman was evil.

"Is everyone here?"

"No...I think Amy's late."

Eon chuckles, "Probably went to pick up Sara at the White House."

Julie, Damon, Mirandia, Sara, Amy, Faith, Eon and Grace-each of them reflect what they remembered of Destiny...and of Kira. They were a part of the 'Fallen Generation', but were the leaders for the following. Faith, Damon, and Julie are not apart of the bloody past, but though they were involved they take part only in what the future will bring, the future Destiny saw. The children of these people are what she died to protect, to give a future for-they know all there is about the truth he one simple fact remains...how did her heart keep beating? As it sounds in Julie's chest, it is the only mystery that can never be known-yet she survived a fatal blow to her heart.

"Sorry we're late, Kira had to pee."

Amy growls as she sends her and Sara's daughter to play with the others. The two greeted everyone and sat down.

'Are you alright with this?'

Crouching down, she helps the little toddler named DJ walk on his own. Both women are seen yet, unseen, their snow-white hair reflecting the light which shadows their faces. The end of a long endless journey...she has become so tired.

'Ya...its enough...I think its over now..."

Grace felt a warm from behind and looked to see those two white shadows walk toward a bright light.

'You coming Raven?'

The taller light frowns. 'I think I preferred being called the Grim Reaper.'

'Hey you're the one who said to call you something else-'

"Destiny?"

'Oops looks like she can see us. I'm going ahead.'

Grace jumped from her seat and ran to the light. She had to know what those last words were, what she said before dying; this day thirteen years ago-the light reached her hand and poked Grace's forehead.

'Happy Birthday Grace.'


End file.
